I’m not good at remembering exact dates and all that kind of crap, but i sure remember everything about you and everything with you. I know I must forget you, let go and stop holding on, but sometimes, I forget about forgetting you.
Remember the night when I said that if ever things fall apart between us you shouldn’t worry about me coz I’ll just think of you as my pet dog bubbles who died of starvation? I lied. You asked me how I really felt about you, I said nothing. I lied again. All the times that we were together, all I did was lie, deny, and push you away, because that was the right thing to do. Because, I knew while you were with me, her heart is breaking, and I don’t want to be a part of that. I said three-fourths of me wants you to go back and fix things with her, but the truth is, I want you so bad that pushing you away would be the best thing to do coz I know you’ll be happier with her, which I have proved right. I know you’re happy now, happier than you could ever be with me, and I am genuinely happy for the both of you. No BS.
Am I mad? No. That’s what I’ve been trying to do, be mad at you so that it would be easier for me to move on and forget you, but I can’t. Because I can’t find a freakin reason to hate you, because, everything I hated about you, I learned to love, even your annoying non-stop self-admiration, the fact that you’re an asshole, your vanity, your ADHD-like syndrome, your “I’m so fine everyone wants to shag me” line that you never fail to mention whenever I criticize you, and how you made me wait for twenty five hours.
Would I do it all over again? Hell to the yes. If I were to pick someone who I can watch dvds with while eating cold pizza, play tong-its with till dawn, re-enact UFC moves, listen to wild confessions and laugh at those stupid callers, sing mushy songs with, play hide and seek with (underpants version), argue about anything with, get into petty fights with, pig out with, have fart contest with, and make ertyuifloveghjhggjhg with even when my sister was just a mattress away, I’d choose you every time. Without thinking twice.
Sounds cliché but I have never really loved someone fully, till I met you. And my heart has never been so broken by someone till you left. Imagine how many times I had to pretend I was doing fine without you, imagine how I was able to fill my brain up with dental crap when all i did was think about you, imagine how I still stayed at the place where we did everything even when you weren’t around anymore, with your smell lingering and memories of you flashing in. Imagine how I was able to do all of that without using someone. I did it all by myself.
Not a fucking day goes by that I don’t think about you. I miss you so much. I miss hugging you from behind, stroking your hair till you fall asleep, teasing you, punching you, listening to your sob stories about life, looking at you, and most of all, I miss how you put your left hand on my cheek, right on my waist, every time we kissed. I bet you’ve forgotten all of it but just in case you don’t know, I loved you from the day you made me wait for twenty five hours to this day I am finally doing what you’ve been asking me to do years ago. I remember how cute you looked when you were begging for me to write a poem about you. Good times… And that’s all it’ll ever be.
You’ve been the only thing that’s right, in all I’ve done.
The main cause of FAILURE is the lack of preparation, and the general false notion that the boards is HARD. A Chinese scholar once said, that Fear cause losses in battle. Know thyself and know thy enemy. You are only as brave and as strong, as how you feel about yourself. The boards is just a small pebble on your road to success. – Garret Robles, DMD
“Self-centered, materialistic, annoying whiny little brat!” That was how my mother described me as a daughter ten years ago. We used to argue a lot about everything, anything, everywhere and anywhere. Every argument we had back then usually ends with either door-slamming or a word, just a word- noun, verb, but mostly adjective- that once out of my dirty mouth automatically makes her an instant deaf-mute.
“Are you acting out because Papa left us?” A question that my mom felt the need to ask right after I flunked 7 out of 8 subjects six years ago. She’d been wanting to ask that ever since I failed Physics back in high school, but she let it slide I guess, thinking that I might get back on track, and I did, temporarily. Honestly, I wasn’t acting out until she brought that matter up. I failed Physics because I fell in love, and I flunked 7 out of 8 subjects for the same reason. Papa has nothing to do with it, I thought, and again she was right. Everything has something to do with my father’s departure. From my messed-up grades and nicotine addiction, middle-of-the-night sneak outs and my first-ever-attempt-to-get-drunk turned bronchospastic-episode that I almost died, from all that to my awkwardness around men, has everything to do with him and nothing with my Mother, the woman that I hated for almost 8 immature years of my life because of letting the only man I thought I ever loved and loved me, leave. I took eight humongous steps away without ever giving her the chance to tell the whole story. I swear, I’d do anything just to take those eight steps back.
“I can’t save you if you don’t let me”, a line from a song that best described the look on my mother’s eyes when I finally sat down and listened. There were some parts on her story that I wish she never told, parts that I wish I had known from the start, and parts where I wish I was included coz maybe somehow, if I was there, I might have changed the situation just by merely saying she is more than enough for us. I regret not telling her those seven words when I saw her cry right after my dad left. She was devastated, depressed and heartbroken, yet managed to still smile and say that everything is going to be better than before. She had no idea if she can do it alone, but she did it anyway. I hated her, broke all of her rules, screamed at her countless of times, lied, insulted her, but she loved me just the same, and that is the most amazing thing God could ever give his child; A neverchanging love regardless of how bad or good the situation had been, is, and will be. A mother’s love.
Mama, you annoy me a lot, you’re such a drama queen, you’re so uptight, you talk too much, but I love you anyway. You may have hundreds of cons but your pros are undeniably infinite. You are and always will be a perfect mother with or without a partner. I could go on and on typing how wonderful you are till your next birthday, but I know hearing that most said phrase is enough for you. So, I Love You.
Happy 55th Birthday!!
Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Testing testing 123.
Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
HUMANDA KA SAMIN NI MAYA!
Wala. Naisipan ko lang isaisahin mga napanood kong pelikula nung 2009, although yung iba eh hindi 2009 pinalabas. Isasama ko na rin kase nga 2009 ko sya pinanood eh!! Bakit ba!?
– buset! Nsayang 45 pesos ko!
“He’s Just Not That Into You”
– okey lang. Eye opener sa mga gerlalung assumera!
“Confessions Of A Shopaholic”
– chick flick. Bang kyut ni Isla Fisher
– yung baklog lang ang naalala ko dito
– pukinginang ending leche.
– kelan pa nagging puti si Goku?!! At bakit GOWKOOH ang bigkas putangina.
– okey to. Pinagnasahan ko ng konti si Ryan Reynolds wahah
“Angels & Demons”
“Drag Me To Hell”
– putanginang napakapanget nasayangan nanaman ako ng 30 pesos! Hndi na 45 kasi tinawaran ko eh. Kahit na saying parin isang kahang yosi na lang sana!
– chick flick ulet.
– ok lang. Parang medyo mas trip ko ung una.
– wahahaha okey to!
“G.I. Joe The Rise of Cobra”
– OK lang, matipuno ung bida ampoge!
“Final Destination 4”
– buset. Walang kwenta. Mga putangina nila.
– ok lang panoorin pag trip mo ung biglang mamapa “watdapak?!” sa huli.
– nakatulog ata ako dito
“(500) Days of Summer”
– eto pinaka peyborit ko ang galeng napaka makatotohanan! Medyo may kurot pero ayos.
“All About Steve”
– ok lang.
– BANAMAN!? WALALALONG KWENTA!
– hndi ako natakot pramis. Medyo na bwiset ako sa pagmumuka nung lalake.
– galeng ganda ayos.
“The Ugly Truth”
– natawa ako dito pramis.
– chick flick ulet. Pero maganda naman. Pogi nung bida. At op kors maganda din ung bida.
“ Journey to the End of the Night”
– medyo na syak ako sa umpisa. Nagtotorohan. Pero mukang maganda sya. Di lang naming natapos nasira ung cd wahaha
“The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3“
– okey to.
– okey lang. Di masyado kakatawa. Buti nalang matipuno si Bradley cooper. (**NAKAKATAWA TO PRAMIS, kaya di ako natawa nung unang panood kasi korni ung ksma ko.)
– teeny bopper ba ang tawag sa mga ganitey? Ok lang sya. Medyo kakabuset lang ang pagpapakyut ni Zac Apron. Efron. Khit ano.
– katuwa to. Medyo kaantok lang ng onti.
– ZZZzzzzzzZZZZZZZzzzzzzZZZ mga pukingina nyong bwiset kayo kinilabatutan ako sa palabas nato. I swerrrrrr! At itaga mo sa bato di ko papanoorin ang new moon!
Marami pa kong mga napanood ung iba lang di ko maalala title. Karamihan kasi ng napanood ko ung mga nasa 20 in 1 na dvd wahaha ung tig sisingkwenta pesos. Aktwali sisenta pesos nga yun eh tumatawad lang kami. Ang pinakanagustuhan ko siguro sa lahat eh ung 500 days of summer at ung closer, medyo may kurot kasi ung storya eh. O sya balik sirkulasyon nanaman ako bukas!! Pasukan nanaman buset. At teka bipor dat e to nga pala new year’s resolution ko.
1.Maging masipag – ……….gudlak.
2.Bawasan ang yosi – …………………super gudlak.
3.Mag exercise – eto medyo kayak o ng konti.
4.Ngumiti – …….gudla….k….?
5.Maging matipid, wag ng kumain sa wendy’s, kfc, pizzahut, etc – kaya!
6.Tigilan muna ang pag eeksperimento sa alcohol
7.Maging mas mabait na anak -wahahahahahaha niloloko ko nanaman sarili ko.
8.Bawasan ang pagtataray
9.Maligo 7 days a week – gudlak.
10.Wag shumorkat sa pagligo, mag shampoo araw araw
11.Mag ipon kahit limang piso a day.
12.Wag ng gawing air freshener ang pabango medyo may kamahalan
13.Matulog ng maaga para mabawasan ang tigidig
14.Uminom ng gatas gabi gabi para medyo magkalaman ang hinaharap (sabi nila eh.)
15.Pag bakbak na ang kyutiks, burahin agad.
16.Magsipag sa clinic!
17.Maging mabait sa pasyenteng nag mamaasim.
19.Tigilan na ang pag ngata ng sitsirya.
20.at wag ng malalate sa klase!
Ang dami eh no. Sana naman kahit 10 out of 20 lang eh magawa ko. Gudlak nalang saken.
Salamat sa pagsasayang mo ng oras sa pagbabasa. Dahil dyan, lab na kita!
p.s. natanggap kong regalo ngyn puro doraemon at yosi. magpapahapyaw nako para sa bday ko medyo tayp ko ung malaking lighter. as in LIGHTER talaga. aylayket berimats. iwas nakaw un, malamang di un pag didiskitahan ng mga tirador ng lighter. oo mga tirador ng lighter! oo ikaw yon tae ka! ibalik mo saken yon! ang cheap mo Lcc nalang dinekwat mo pa hampas lupa ka.
“The hardest thing to let go of is the one you don’t own.”
babay prensterblag. helow blagspat.
Tired of ceaseless repetition, he thought about putting an end to it. But “how” is the question he had to answer, immediately. Any suggestions? A knife could cut his veins open and bleed to death. Hypovolemic shock! Good idea. But that would take long for him to make a quick escape. What about ropes, chains or wires? A bit complicated but cheap. He can hang himself up with it but would leave an ugly mark on his neck or even bulge his eyeballs out. A silent, bloodless, woundless and decent death, he wishes. Something knife and ropes could never grant.
Comatose overdose, he thought, without the first word. Comatose would mean there’s still hope for him to be brought back to life. Overdose. Certainly. He walked towards the medicine cabinet and searched for the solution he had been dying to get hold of. Benadryl, Aspirin, Coumadin, Erythromycin, Ambroxol. NEGATIVE. Those things wont kill him, exceeding the maximum therapeutic dosage would just cause gastrointestinal upsets, blood dyscrasia, possibly a GI hemorrhage in the future or even coma, but still, that doesn’t add up or even measure up to a drug that can end someone’s life in just a snap. Before everything that he had planned turn into a big letdown, he phoned his former roommate who he expects to be there in a jiffy with the paraphernalia. He bought a bunch to be sure.
Thanks junkie, he owes you his death. He sat on the floor of his pad with legs crossed, tied the tourniquet as tight as possible around his upper right arm and tapped his median cubital vein. Come out come out you precious little shit, he muttered. Then 3 large veins appeared. Cephalic, M.cubital, and Basilic. Bingo. He instantly grabbed the syringe with a large bore needle and injected the dissolved junk on to the site. Aspirate first you moron. And He did. A trace of blood. That’s a good sign. He released the tourniquet, and deposited the solution slowly. Five, four, three, two, one… god it felt great. But OD is what he desires, not the hallucinating effect of the drug. He waited for seconds for it to kick in. Vertigo. Vision blurred. Unsteadiness. Suddenly he fell down. This is what he had been waiting for. In his sight, lights started to flicker, his world began to warp. As he lay perfectly on the floor, enjoying every effect the drug could possibly have and offer, illustrations of him began to interfere; moving and living, like a biography of him made into a low budget movie. Every scene were played in a fast forward manner, but appeared as if in slow motion. TIRING. Everything seemed to be repeating. Morning – bed, shower, coffee, car, road, school. Noon – school, car, road, pad, couch, cigarettes. Night – cigarettes, dinner, cigarettes, book, bed. Repeating in a fast forward manner, muted, with poor lighting effects, bad angles, and low-def resolution. That’s why he did what he just did, so as to escape from monotony, normalcy, and unkindness.
End credits. Darkness. Every bad pixel of that film turned into perfection. Black. Am I dead now? He asked. His head ached like bad case of hemorrhoids. Nauseated, confused, and disoriented, everything went back to normal. His hands, shaking. Shit, I need more, he thought, after realizing that he failed on his very first attempt. On his second try, he injected five shots with fentanyl combined – 3 on left arm and 2 on the other. This time, a different outcome occurred. No Vertigo. No blurring of vision. Neither flashbacks nor hallucinations took place. Everything just started to collapse like a building being demolished, disintegrating second by second, his memory started to deteriorate, hands shaking, and face flushing, tingly, and burning. His chest tightened as if a heavy mass had just been tossed above him. His usual breathing was now labored as if something had just foiled his airway. His eyes, pupils both constricted, displayed such satisfaction regardless of the fact that in just one blink, he’d be dead, gone and soon be forgotten. With a vision that was now dim and mottled, he took one last look around the world that he, from the very beginning, assumed to be imaginary, scripted, and copied – from a terrible novel written by an unknown jaded sadistic friendless pompous control freak heroin addict. Finally, he’s now on the edge of his flight, just waiting for it to take off. If the muscles of his lips hadn’t surrendered, he would have smiled. If his legs hadn’t numbed, he probably would have danced. If his respiratory capacity hadn’t lowered, he would have effortlessly respired for the last time. Because what he did made him proud, happy, and calm for the first time. His body now turned purple, eyes shut dead, unmoving, his breathing stopped. Respiratory arrest. Dead.
After waiting for a total of twenty-some minutes; his ride had finally gone up high. Will it crash down? Nobody knows…
Fear. Phobia. Whatever you want to call it. What are your fears? I don’t know mine yet, or should I say, I’m not really sure. All I know is that I am definitely not afraid of heights. I can go innumerable rounds on a gigantic rollercoaster or dare me to bungee jump, without thinking twice; I’d leap with unrestrained thoughts. Water? I’m not a good swimmer, but I can swim, just like a normal kid who had a “forced swimming lessons”. So I’ve got no problems about sinking into the depths of extremities. Fire? Show me how to light a cigarette without it then maybe I’ll try to think of myself being a pyrophobic. How about failure? Rejection? Maybe. But you know what, when you get used to such situations involving the things you thought you’re afraid of, fear would automatically be disregarded. How you feel, see, and perceive things will change. You’re not afraid anymore, but tired and somewhat deadened. Right now, I know I am afraid of something. Maybe growing old alone, or death, or ghosts perhaps. Not sure. Yet I am aware that fear is somewhat wandering around my system, trying to make a deal with my senses, while I sit here struggling to heed every warning that could possibly come along. But hey, whatever. I’ll just let the god of fear do his job. Scare me.
I just realized something. Whenever I’m all set, life tend to make me wait. And whenever I’m badly prepared, I end up doing things too quickly just for the sake of getting closer to something indefinite. So no matter how ready or how unprepared I am, the ending would just be as terrible as getting disconnected in a nearly completed downloading process.
“Have you ever felt like your heart isn’t beating anymore? “
In this existential despair I stand alone, staring blankly into my own cold threat, “if you do, you’ll regret.” My alter-ego mumbled. But I dared and took a dangerous leap, not considering the price I’ll pay if I fall short. Surprisingly, I landed flawlessly at this pink adorable room painted with unfamiliar but sweet-looking flowers in luminous colors. I lay there naively for a long time not knowing there’s no guarantee that I can stay there forever. That was the first and last time I felt so happy and significant.
I took a lot of leaps after that, or should I say risks? However, different from the first one. I had three shaky landings, crashed a lot of times, countless of bruises, and one hope-explosion. Will I go for another one? I think so but not this time. I’m still recovering from a soul-crash and somewhat fixing myself. And when I’m all geared up and certain, I want to crash into someone for good.
Empty bottles- c2, Pepsi, 1.5 coke, mineral water- cat shits, roach shits, dead roaches, half-dead roaches, dirty clothes, mismatched socks, crumpled scratch papers, cigarette butts, unwashed coffee mugs, a dusty fan, left-overs, all scattered around my room, my guest-room’s-bathroom-sized room. I’m not a neat freak, obviously. They say your own room embodies your self, it defines you. Bullshit. But true enough.
Dark purple wall, purple curtains, checkered linoleum floor, exposed bed with no pillows, piles of discs mostly incubus, books- college books, fictional, sci-fi, self-help, computer-related, photography/film books, and lots of different kinds of dictionaries- posters, pictures, torn pages from guitar one magazine, a finished cross-stitched portrait of a girl picking up tulip shit, shoelaces-different kinds and colors, glow in the dark stuffs, all glued up in my wall. A 17” tube, black computer, moss green fan, and a garbage can. A mess. Everything is broken; my computer is slower than slow coz it’s fucked up with some Trojan virus shit, my TV isn’t working, my bed smells like cat piss- I don’t even sleep here because of roaches, big ones, flying ones. But I spend every day just sitting here, typing, smoking, thinking, reading, writing, despite the smell, the appearance, everything. Just like loving a druggie. Just like being alone with a mentally ill person. Despite the situation, I still love going back here, spending my time here, alone, without ever having to change or to fix anything.
When I was a kid, during summer vacations, I used to read dictionaries of all kinds before I go to sleep. In alphabetical order. Then one night when I was having a hard time pronouncing the word euthanasia, I went down to talk to my mom about it. “E-yut-han-na-si-a, mercy killing.” I said. Then my mom laughed. “ It’s yu-thaneiy-sha.” Then after knowing the right pronunciation, I found myself repeating the word over and over before I go to sleep forgetting that there are thousands of unfamiliar and hard to pronounce words I still have to read. Euthanasia. Euthanasia. Euthanasia. Mercy killing.
I read every dictionary I can find in our bookshelf. Every dictionary I can buy with my allowance. Because I want to know every meaning of every words-unfamiliar, foreign, profound- I hear and see everyday. So that when I grow up, I wont sound dumb like “what are you talking about? Nihility what?” so that I myself, too, can give meaning to every words I say, or give words to every thought, and feelings, I think and feel. I wanted to be prepared, coz I know in the future I will meet someone as smart as Einstein, or as poesy as Shakespeare, or as deep as Brandon Boyd. But when I started having my period, I forgot everything about it. I only read dictionary once a month, whenever we had unit test in English. I forgot about it because I started to become conscious. I forgot about Einstein, or Shakespeare, or Boyd. I forgot about euthanasia. And started thinking about shallow things like branded clothes, shoes, pop stars, cell phones, crushes, and suchlike. I didn’t want to be smart anymore, I abandoned my dream to become this person who knows every meaning of every words, who gives words to every feeling or thoughts that no one else but him can explain. I forgot about lexicons and lexicographers. All I ever wanted then was to fit in. and I did. At least temporarily.
Friendship. It can make or break you. I thought friendship is just drooling over boys, sharing corny and made-up secrets, sharing dolls and caboodles, watching tear-jerking movies and chick flicks, and laughing like crazy. Fact is, it’s not just that. It’s about giving up your personal life. Your individuality. A risk. Like jumping into a cliff without knowing if that someone you’ve trusted will catch you or just leave you. Like shooting an unloaded gun into your head, even if you know it wouldn’t kill you, yet you’re still terrified to pull the trigger. A sin. A vice. Like partying with criminals. Like getting drunk. Like getting whacked. Like doing drugs. Like murdering someone. Carjacking. Cheating, stealing, getting high, getting stoned, and all the evilness you can think of. And when the party is over, when you ran the fucking out of drugs, beer, someone to kill, everyone you’ve smoked with, gotten drunk with, gotten stoned with, are gone. Friendship is just friendship, just a word full of phoniness. Nothing special. Nothing to die for. Just a word. That means nothing.
I wish I felt nothing. Neither feeling dead or alive makes no sense. It makes no difference. Everyday feels like chemotherapy day for cancer patients. Happy but sad, hesitant but sure, loved but betrayed, alive but dead. They undergo the same operation over and over again just to kill the deadly cell, the cancer cell. Until their hopes began to disappear. Until they become numb to feel the needles, to hear the mourn of their loved ones, to smell the scent of medicines and syrups, to see their hair slowly falling out. Until life meant nothing but cruelty to them.
My cousin died of bone cancer. She was only four then. It took her youth, her joy, her Barbie doll, away. Away. Away. From her. From us. I remembered when I used to stay up all night just to pray for her. Last time I saw her moving, breathing, was 2 days before her death. She was irritated, angry, mad, devastated, crying, because of anticipation, of disappointments, of wanting to get everything over with, of us. We didn’t blame her. Because we understood. I understood. She cried not because she’s afraid to die but because she’s afraid to live and suffer forever.
It’s like being alive but dead. Like being me. Everyday, I wished I were the one who had cancer and died. I wished I had a rheumatic heart disease or HIV or emphysema or tuberculosis, or leukemia. Nobody understood why I chain smoke. They think I smoke packs per day just to relieve stress. I smoke because I want my lungs to suffer, so I can die young. I don’t want death by default. Dying of old age is sad. Depressing. And ordinary.
I never was a fan of suicide. I tried it before, but didn’t work. When I was a kid, after my father left us, I tried cutting myself. In the ass, stomach, abdomen, at the back, anywhere in my body where no one could see. Then it healed. But left no superficial marks. No scars. Yet I can still remember the same spot where I incised. I can still remember the amount of blood that poured down to my legs. It didn’t hurt. It never hurt. But the departure did. It hurt like shit. Like fucking spasms. Like stiff neck, locked jaws, third degree burns, like fucking toothache and turbo headaches. And I thought then that my only cure was to see my father again. So things would be normal like it was before. I now realized I don’t need a cure anymore. For my tumor is now malignant. No certain drugs or painkillers could heal it. Only death could.
I grew unstable, inconsistent with my opinions, which I think are two of the symptoms of substance abuse. I thought, if there were any dopes or coke or angel dusts around, I’d probably would have taken two of more sniffs. Or if there were a pot hidden under my brother’s audio player, I’d probably be a pothead. But it’s the availability that kept me from being one of those fucked up hallucinating dope junkies that I wish I were. The only thing available here is a cigarette, the thing that my mother despises the most. My best friend, my buddy that I can buy anywhere once I run out. Better than a living friend, better than a pet, or than a car. Cigarettes are my best friends. They have lots of names, Virginia slims, Capri, vogue, Marlboro, dj mix, etc. they are always available. They don’t have strict schedules to follow, or a class to attend, or a lover to fuck with. They don’t hurt you but rather satisfy you. But there is a betrayal that will surely come. Maybe not at this moment, but soon.
This is how unstable I’ve become. Jumping from one issue to another then another. From cancer to my father’s departure to substance abuse. Inconsistency. Insecurity. Fucking words I hate the most. That’s why I think I could never be a good writer. I suck at essays. Sometimes I fuck at my grammars, especially those past present future past participle shit. Plus I have a habit of jumping from this topic to that out-of-the-topic topic, when the topic that is supposed to be written is all about this and not that. Poor English. Fucked-up grammar, logic, imagination. If only I spent my junior years at a well-known school with high fucking standards of teaching, I may not be this bad in English as I am now. Regrets. You’ll only realize it when the work is done. Take a finished painting for example, pastel colors, seashore, coconut trees, sunset. No one looked at it except from the painter himself. No one bought it, until he realizes why. “I should have used earth tones than pastel, I should have stroked the brush gently, when I could have in the first place.” As obvious as it could be, the painting was already done. Remorse. I should have believed my mother when she said friends are like kangaroos jumping from one land to another. I shouldn’t have bought his I-love-you-I-will-never-hurt-you bullshit. I should have continued my piano lessons even when my father left. I should have. When I possibly could have in the first place.
Everybody lies. Everybody leaves. That’s how things work now. You just have to be cautious or rather numb. If you don’t, you’ll be locked in shadows, painfully screaming, crying, and begging. Trust? That’s bullshit. You can’t trust anyone nowadays, not even your brother, or your best friend.
Have you ever felt so ignored like you don’t even exist at all? And you just wish you were deaf-blind just so you can’t hear and see what others say about you, positive or negative. Am I unfairly treated? Yes. And that hurts so bad I can’t even lift my self and fight back.
Isn’t it hard when you’re facing shitloads of problems and you don’t have someone to talk to or someone that can listen to you or someone that can hold you while you’re breaking down? It’s damn hard to be alone.
Some of you might ask, “What the hell is your problem? You’re not the only one being unfairly treated, ignored and criticized!” –I know that. And the fact that I’m not the only one having this kind of problem makes me wonder, why the hell do I need to think about that, I have my own problem to focus on.
Everyday, I face criticisms, fake compliments, forced smiles, eye rolls, and all that kind of crap, which I can’t take anymore. Even if I’m trying to be nice and all, people don’t see that, all they see is that I’m not good enough for them and that I can never be good enough.
I’m tired of people always lying, and leaving. Why can’t we all just tell the truth? Why can’t we all just stay? Why can’t we?
Pathetic Right? I know. I just want this shit to stop you know. Be my friend and love me for who I am, maybe that’s all I need.
Around 9 a.m.
I opened my eyes.
I was awakened by a dreadful spell
I wanted to scream,
But I held it down instead.
I don’t want to wake u up.
Not just yet.
I would rather see you unmoving
Than gaze at your gloomy disappearance.
Let me capture you first.
Let me take a photograph of your soul
Let me stare at your depressing beam
You’re real. I know you are.
But they don’t.
This time I know you’re not just a mind’s eye.
You’re real. I know you are.
But you don’t.
It was 2 in the afternoon.
When you opened yours.
You gave me a strange stare
Like you don’t recognize me.
You rushed out of bed
And ran away without a word.
I wanted to whimper.
But I held it down instead.
Coz I don’t want sympathy.
Not at this moment. Not eternally.
I yearn for your love.
But you took it away.
You left me.
This time I know that was real.
Yes you left me.
And I felt it.
Misery. Sorrow. Pain.
It wounded me hard.
That I cannot even lift myself
To pick up the sad pieces
That you’ve just shattered.
You left me. You did.
I felt it. But you didn’t.
i want to go far away from people i know and people hu knows me. i wanta go to a place wer no one knows me. wer things wud work out the way i want it. wer i can be myself. wer no one wud care if i am funny-looking, if i am weird, if i dress out of the occasion, a place far away from here. a place wid nice people and nice books. a place wer no one wud give a damn if im bad in english, a place with no critics, no racist, no heartbreakers, murderers, theives. a place that is ideal. a perfect place to live, grow, learn, and unfold.
Being myself isnt working. and i have to escape from here.
i want to go to a nice place. a place wer i can breathe, sing, SMILE, laugh, and love. a place wer there’s no hate, jealousy, bitterness, cruelty, hipocrisy. a place that isnt evil. a place with no phonies.
a place of acceptance. joy. love. and true friendship. a place called PARADISE.
now tell me, is there such place?
-feb 3, 2006
ang pagkakaibigan ay parang puno. lumalago, bumubunga, at nalalanta.
kunwari ako yung mismong puno, at ang mga kaibigan ko ay ung mga dahon. inaalagaan ko cla, bnbgyan ng lakas. ng magandang texture at kulay. at kunwari ung bunga ng puno ay ang pinakamatlik kong kaibigan. apol sya kunwari. inaalagan ko sya, gngwang pinakamapulang mansanas sa lahat. bawat dahon at bunga ng naka dikit sakin ay pinapahalagahan ko. ganun ang pagkakaibigan. pagpapahalaga at pagmamahal.
pro diba hndi maiiwasan ang paglagas. ang pagpitas. hndi rin maiiwasan sa pagkakaibigan ang pag iwan, at pagsama sa iba. pagkatapos mong ibigay lahat sa kanila, pagkatapos mong pasayahin- tulad ng puno, pagkatapos mong alagaan at palaguin bawat dahon at bunga, unti unti rin itong malalagas o pipitasin. hanggat magigising ka nalang na wala na lahat ng minahal mo, pinahalagahan mo, inalagaan mo, pinasaya mo.
dahil nakuha na nila ang gusto nila. or dahil hndi na cla masaya sau. wala na, ni isang dahon, wala ng natira sau. isang tuyot na puno. walang dahon, walang bunga.
kung ihahalin tulad naman sa fake plastic tree ang friendship, evrything is fake. pati ikaw. di ata maganda un..hmm.
"keep your delight of friendship but u must learn how to know ur friends"
pain, hatred, fear, insecurity, envy, cruelty and apathy. rolled into one ball of shit.
it unexpectedly hit me. and turned me into a different person. it was
unbearable. at first i tot it’ll kill me if i just let that thing manipulate my being, but i got used to it. day by day. it made my heart fall into a deep sleep. far down from reality.
love me. hurt me. fear me. insult me. control me. rape me. stab me. bite me. kiss me. lie to me. kill me. slap me. torture me. make fun of me. criticize me. deny me. hurt me. and i will do the same.
for it is you who will suffer the most. go on, utter those sharp words, stab me to death.
killing me means bringing me back to life.
now its my turn to make yours miserable.
standing on the edge of a cliff
under this hysterical fear
should i leap over?
or shud i stay?
im giving u a signal
to come with me
on this neverending mistake
wud u follow me?
asking for sanity
im having uncertainties
should i take the risk?
i cant find the remedy
give me your hand
and ill give u mine
lets do this together
jump into eternity
i can take no for an answer
if u refuse to come with
leave without a warning
let it all fall apart
my existence wer never inevitable
am i made for this emotional ditress?
i never longed for this. never will
perhaps i shuld just falter
it was an honest mistake
i created unwilingly
this timeless journey
hoping for it to fade in silence
but it was the contrary
of what i longed for
i asked gently
but u destroyed me
picking up the pieces
of this shattered glass
pointing it into my veins
while u remain faultless
i gave u an invitation
to end this sorrow
a neverending mistake
that i hope to vanish
but u never showed up.
never went across me
never even tried to stop me.
u never came. not even close.
deaden the sound
im sick of it
in a short space of time
u have ruined my fate
give it back to me.
leaving me helpless
on a headlong flight
how dare you.
put me back together i said.
put me back to sleep.
put me back there–where u found me
put me back to where i can find peace.
stealing whats on my grasp
taking whats mine
you left nothing. not anything.
hear me screeching.
dont push mute.
let it all go into you.
take in evry word i scream
look straight into my eye
watch it all fall.
ill put u back together. he said.
ill put u back to sleep.
ill put u back there-where i found you
ill put u back to nothing.
stealing whats on my grasp
taking whats mine.
you left nothing. not anything.
it was made for me.
core of my emotion.
seat of my feeling.
it was my heart
that uv ruined.
with no reason.
give it back. i said.
u dont own it anymore.
im no longer yours.
pagtingala ko, meron akung nakitang naglalarong krityur sa ilaw.
napa WAW aku. kase ang galing.. parang ansaya saya nya, walang ibang iniisip kungdi maglaro, lumipad paikot ikot sa ilaw.. tapos maya maya
biglang dumapo saken. putangina ipis pala.. nasira tuloy moment ko..
eniwei, tatagalugin ko nalang to kase baka mamaya merun plang nagbabasa ditong super galeng mag english at baka ma okray pa ung gramar ko..
nabubuhay ako sa kasinungalingan. pagpapanggap. pag papalinlang. di ko namalayan pati pla sarili ko niloloko ko na. ung tipong kala mo winawasak na ung buo kung pagkatao pro eto prin ako, nakangiti, taas noon nagkukunwaring walang nararamdaman. minsan naman kahit saktan ako pa ulit ulit, parang tila nasanay nako, hndi ko na nararamdaman ung pait tulad ng dati. parang sinanay ku na ung sarili ko sa ganung sitwasyon. na nung una pag inumpug ku ung ulo ko sa pader, ramdam na ramdam ko ung sakit, andun ung pagtulo ng luha at pag sigaw dhil hndi makayanan ng loob ko ung sakit na naramdaman. pero pa ulit ulit ku paring inumpog ung sarili ko sa pader, sa lamesa, sa bintana, sa pinto, hanggat sa hndi ko na tuluyang maramdaman ung sakit. wala na.. manhid na.
kelan kaya ako ulit makakaramdam? pag dumating na ung taong magmamahal saken ng sobra at sasaktan din ako ng sobra? hndi ko hnihintay un.
at d ko rin hihilinging mangyari un. mas pipiliin ko pang maging mag isa habang buhay, kesa maramdaman ulit ung sakit na pilit kong iniiwasan. oo. duwag na ako. dahil ayoko na ulit maging tulad ng dati.
na walang ibang inisip kung di ibang tao. pinabayaan ko ang sarili ko.
nagpaalipin ako sa pag ibig. binago ko sarili ko at paniniwala ko para lang tanggapin ako ng taong mahal ko. tanga ako.
at ngayon ko lang napagtanto na hndi ko pala dapat gnwa un. sana hinintay ko nalang ung taong pwede akong maging "ako" walang labis walang kulang, walang pagpapanggap, lahat katotohanan, na kahit na gaanong raming upos ng sigarilyo ang makikita nya sa loob ng kwarto,
kahit na hndi ako perpekto,kahit natatawa ako sa maliliit na bagay, kahit na puro mura ang maririnig nya, na kahit na masunget ako, na kahit na bgla nalang ako mananahimik ng walang dahilan, kahit na hndi ko kasundo mga kaibigan nya, kahit na makulit ako, andun parin sya, handang tanggapin at sabayan ang ikot ng mundo ko. ang mahiwagang tanung..MERUN BANG GANUN?
gumising ka keysi. malabong mangyari un..
ALAM ko. kaya nga heto ko nagpapakalulon nalang sa pag aaral. hndi ko kelangan ng lalake. ang
pag ibig ay kathang isip lamang na nabubuo dahil sa libido.
sawa na ko sa mga pa ulit ulit na ng yayari. sira na ang plakang paulit ulit pinapatugtog. ubus na ang lighter na paulit ulit sinisindi. wala na. tapos na. isa lang ang hinihintay kong mangyari.
"yakapin mo ko na parang ayaw pakawalan. dito ka lang sa tabi ko wag mo kong iiwan. hndi mo kelangan magsalita. sa paghinga mo palang
naririnig ko na. kaw lang ang nakakaintindi sa takbo ng utak ko. kaya dyan ka lang.. wag kang aalis. magugunaw ang mundo ko. "
it was raining hard dat night, a girl went to the cementery. she brought a pen and a paper. things were really unpredictable until she started digging at the exact same spot were she met dis guy.
“u were d one hu made me famous. u became my inspiration to write such moving poems and stories. too bad all of it was just a fiction. it was a mere imagination, thinkin u were mine. now i decided to stop this. for i know ur still inluv with her. for i know even if i continue writing poems and stuffs, people will come and appreciate it, but u wont. so its pointless.. i did this for u but how come i still remain unnoticed? so i guess dis is gudbye.”
then the girl buried the pen and paper. while she was cryin, someone suddenly tapped her on the back.
“u r all i notice. i loved u eversince i met u. i loved u since the day i saw u hir, u wer bitter that time. but it didnt matter to me. it didnt even keep me away from having this feelings for u. the day u offered a flower for her grave, i finally saw light and hope. that there is still one person left hir to ease my sufferings. wen she died, i tot my heart died too. but then u came..and evrythin became clear to me. it was love at first sight.. those poems and stories u wrote, i read all of them. i read them evryday from page to page.”
she tot it was real, but then her senses woke. it was just a dream. she still hasnt buried the pen and paper. she cried.
“i guess evrything was just a dream. a dream that can never be real. a dream dat i wanted to come true for so long. so i think ill just continue writing.. until all of this will come tru. ill never stop. ill never get tired. “
for many years, this girl became the bestseller for fictional books. she won an award for writing profound poems. but her works wer never specific. she never mentioned the guy’s full name. the only description she made was, “the guy hu handed me a pen at the cementery.” until now pipol r still wondering hu the guy is. it was such a mystery to the readers.
but the “guy” that she was tokin about doesnt actually exists. he was just one of her mindworks that she found herself fallin for.
anu ba nama’t pati ang blog pinapatulan ko na? eh sobrang boring tlga pag bakasyon.. ang dami kong extraordinaryong bagay na nagawa ngaung summer na hndi ko inaakalang kaya ko plang gawin. magaling! tulad ng :
- araw araw ay sinusubaybayan ko na ang wowowee.. kabisado ko na nga ang tim song ano ba yan
- nagkasakit ako. nilagnat. inubo. humina ang baga dahil sa peyborit kong bagay.. ang astro cigarette.
- pinapanood ko na rin ang bidang kontrabida na si ruby.
- at sa wakas.. nakakapaligo nako araw araw dahil sa init ng panahon! d na amoy baktol!! woohoo
- hndi na ko umaabsent sa summerclasses. pucha kahit sobrang nakakatamad..
- natutunan kong tumugtog ng flute na nagngangalang mulawin.
- marami pa. nkkhiya ung iba.
sabi ko sa sarili ko "k.c. magtino ka na. halos nakaka tatlong lipat ka na ng skul at nakakatatlong palit ka na ng kurso" kaya magtitino nako. sa totoo lang eksited na nga akong mamili ng gamit para sa iskul.. bagong medyas. bagong sapatos. bagong bolpen. at bagong uniform.. yehey.
buti nalang pasado ako sa anaphysio at zoo.. out of 8 subjcts dalawa lng pinasa ko.. i may sound proud kc cnsbi ko pa dito. but im not.. ngayon tatahakin ko ang bagong landas ng pagaaral.. ang maging isang nars! un lang. bow!