Turning Point

3 a.m. 31st of March, year 2008. Monday.

It is just now that I have finally come face to face with reality and accepted that I have lost my lover in you. What we had was special and I will always treasure it and keep it safely tucked in my heart as one of my best and fondest memories, no matter how bittersweet it may have ended.

Today, I am accepting an end. But beyond this lies a hope deeply rooted in my own realm, that another beautiful beginning for a love lost awaits. Should the heavens permit it, and if the future should hold a home for us both, be certain my Dearest, that I shall gladly succumb and surrender my heart, my soul, my life to you once more, as I always have.

Live your life in my eyes and keep your love in my heart. I am your keeper. Trust that I will always look out for you. I have your best interest in mind. I am your diary. I am holding your heart in mine. And each moment that time shall allow me, I will hold you close and just be with you for as long as you want me to. You have me, my Dearest, forever and always. I shall be your guardian.

...i'm still waiting...

I've given every moment I had
Still I can never seem to keep up with you
You're done with one mile, and onto another one thousand
Still I could never seem to keep up with you

It's keeping me awake every night
But I can never seem to give up on you
I send up a prayer and I'm onto another one thousand
Still i can never seem to give up on you

You're going to be just fine
You're going to be alright love
You know I love you
Even if we can or can't be friends
I'll be with you till the very end
You're going to be just fine
You're going to be alright love

Hanging

I am hanging on every word you sayAnd even if you don't want to speak tonightThat's alright, alright with me'Cause I want nothing more than to sitOutside heaven's door and listen to you breathingIs where I want to be

the wait is over

Just when do you know that the long wait is over? They say it is when you have found yourself before the crossroad, at the foot of the bridge you are bound to cross, upon reaching the finish line, when you have finally caught your shooting star… when you have finally found the one -- that one person who would put an end to the waiting restless soul in you.

But in truth, the waiting is never really over. Even after you have chosen a path, crossed the bridge, gone past the finish line and caught all the fallen stars of the heavens. No, not even when you have finally found that one person you know will be the last you will ever love. Because it is only you who is bound to end all the waiting. It shall only be over when you say it is over.

So when will you say that the wait is finally over? When should you? Should you?

Often times, it seems that there is nothing you can do about it, as if there is no other choice for you but to wait. But there is another choice, a choice not to wait. To stop waiting once and for all. But even after knowing that, you know that in your heart of hearts, you would still choose to wait, you would still want to wait; no matter how difficult and painfully long it will take. It is so when it is love that you have decided to wait for.

No matter how much it hurts you to do so, no matter how much it breaks you to give more, even if you feel that you are not enough and there is nothing more that you can offer; you still go on doing, still keep on giving the best that you can as much as you can. You still keep waiting. You keep hoping. You just wait. And somehow, by some miracle and sheer luck, you realize that there is still a little more that you can do and a little more that you can give. You allow yourself to wait a little longer, and hope a little more. And it only takes one simple reason… you love. And so you wait.

So tell me, when will you finally say that the wait is over? When can you? Can you? Do let me know, I beg of you… because I just can’t.

an unsolicited advice...

Her Bachelor

Her Bachelor sounds just like the man I had to leave behind...

"Remember when you told me that marriage for you is one time and one time only?" Brad asked DeAnna, who nodded in eager anticipation. "I feel the same exact way, and I just said goodbye to Jenni."

However instead of then telling DeAnna that she was the girl for him, Brad unexpectedly hit the pause button.

"Okay, hold on real quick," Brad told a confused DeAnna.

Then, after wandering around the yard nervously adjusting his tie and wringing his hands, Brad returned to the final Rose Ceremony altar and revealed his decision to a confused DeAnna.

"We always promised each other we'd be completely honest right, no matter how much it could hurt?" Brad asked DeAnna. "I look at you and I see so many things I never thought I would have in my entire life and I'm trying to tell you that I have so, so many feelings for you. And I want so badly to be so confident to pick you up and twirl you around and give you a diamond ring and spend my life with you. But I can't look you in your eye and tell you that I love you. I can't. I can't give you a promise that I can't keep, I refuse to do that... I have to tell you goodbye."

"I don't understand," DeAnna -- exhibiting some of the "strong and independent" side that Brad had just complimented -- told Brad. "I just don't understand how you could say goodbye to me. I guess that's maybe because my feelings are different."

DeAnna asked if Brad looked at her more as a friend. He said that wasn't the case at all, and instead he just didn't want to offer her the "false promise" of happily ever after because he cares about her too much.

"That word 'love' means so much to me, I refuse to give you any false promise because I do care about you so much" Brad told DeAnna.

Understandably, Brad's "clarification" seemed to further confuse DeAnna.

"It just doesn't sound right to say that you do care about someone so much, but you're willing to watch them walk away" said DeAnna.

"I would never want to hurt you," said Brad.

"I'm hurting right now," answered DeAnna. "I think the difference is I came here sure, and you're not."

"Do you know how much I care about you?" Brad asked DeAnna.

"No I don't. No I don't," said DeAnna. "I thought I did, up until I got here today. Until just now. I thought I had it all figured out. This would explain why I never wear my heart on my sleeve."

Brad pleaded with DeAnna not to say something like that before she asked him one last question.

"What happens when you regret your decision?" she wondered.

"I don't know," answered Brad.

"To be so hurt and mad all at the same time," said DeAnna once she was back in her limo. "Half of me is looking at him like I don't give a f**k what he says, than the other half just could not understand. I definitely didn't think he'd be the next person to break my heart. Stupid me."

hindi mo lang alam...

‘di mo lang alam

Naiiisip kita

Baka sakali lang maisip mo ako

‘di mo lang alam

Hanggang sa aking inaasam makita kang muli

Nagtapos ang lahat sa di inaasahang pahanon

At ngayon ako ay iyong iniwan

Luhaan, sugatan, ‘di mapakinabangan

Sana nagtanong ka lang

Kung ‘di mo lang alam

Sana’y nagtanong ka lang

Kung ‘di mo lang alam

Ako’y iyong nasaktan

Baka sakali lang maisip mo naman

Hindi mo lang alam

Kay tagal na panahon

Ako’y nandirito pa rin hanggang ngayon para sa’yo

Lumipas mga araw na ubod ng saya

‘di pa rin nagbabago ang aking pagsinta

Kung ako’y nagkasala patawad na sana

Puso kong pagal ngayon lang nagmahal

‘di mo lang alam

Ako’y iyong nasaktan

Baka sakali lang maisip mo naman

Puro s’ya na lang

Sana’y ako naman

‘di mo lang alam

Ika’y minamasdan

Sana’y iyong mamalayang hindi mo lang pala alam

‘di mo lang alam

Kahit tayo’y magkaibigan lang

Napapaligaya lang sa tuwing nagkukulitan

Baka sakali lang maisip mo naman

Ako’y nandito lang

Hindi mo lang alam

Matalino ka naman

Kung ikaw at ako

Ay tunay na bigo sa laro na ito

Ay dapat bang sumuko

Sana hindi ka lang pala aking nakilala

Kung alam ko lang ako’y masasaktan ng ganito

Sana’y nakinig na lang ako sa nanay ko

‘di mo lang alam

Ako’y iyong nasaktan

Baka sakali lang maisip mo naman

Puro s’ya na lang

Sana’y ako naman

Isang kindat man lang

‘di mo lang alam

O, ika’y minamasdan

Sana iyo’y mamalayang di mo lang pala alam

Malas mo

Ikaw ang natipuhan ko

Di mo lang alam
Ako’y iyong nasaktan

by: Updharma down

a pang of sorrow

It is only in sleeping that you can find rest for you broken heart. But even sleep has remained so elusive. When slumber seems to be the best way to cope and strengthen you at least for the night, you still find yourself wide awake, hurting. Even the darkness cannot lull you to sleep. Because even as you close your eyes, to escape your waking moments of breaking, you still see his face, his smile. And as you lay in your bed, there still is the remaining fragrance of his scent. And even if you change your sheets, his smell still lingers. He still lingers. He is deeply rooted in your memory. And everywhere you look, in everything you lay your eyes on, you see him there, you find him there. You hear him in your own voice, when you speak, when you feign a laugh, you still hear him. No other thoughts have occupied your mind. Not even the memories you had together. It’s just him… every passing painful moment. And it’s just so agonizing. It feels like you are about to burst with emotions. You want to wail and you want to scream and you want to stop breathing. You just want to stop. Stop hurting. Stop feeling. Stop thinking. Stop. And then you let out a breath again. And again you feel an excruciating pain tug at the deepest corner of your heart. And you want to cry, but you have lost even the will, let alone the strength to cry. You tremble. You feel weak. And you have become weak. You have lost your appetite… for food, for life, for love. And nothing seems to quench your thirst… for him, for his time, for his love, for his life. You want so bad to let everything out, to set free all the emotions that consume you. But then you realize that you no longer can. You keep getting weaker faster than light has traveled away from your world. And you feel the fright of being too weak to save yourself, your sanity, your own passion for living. And then you stop living. You begin to forget who you are, how you are. Why is it that when your memory begins to fail you of reminding you of how and who you used to be, it never seems to fail to remind you of him and of how much you love him?! And there is no use looking into your heart because it has been shattered to pieces, like pieces of a broken mirror where you find a million more reflections of the tremendous grief you are drowning into - - like quicksand. Sunrise has come unnoticed. And the morning does not differ from nightfall. Nothing seems to matter anymore. And no matter how many words you know, how many phrases you understand, you find that your hope and faith and love have altogether lost their meanings. The only word and act you know of is ‘beg.’ To beg for forgiveness for all your shortcomings, all your faults, your weaknesses, for just being yourself. To beg that all the grief, pain, hurt and hopelessness to leave and be washed away. To beg for him to take you back and love you again. You try so hard to stand once again, to find your ground and remain standing. To clear your thoughts and mend your sanity. But you find yourself failing. And you just can’t help feeling like a failure. You feel like you have failed him, you have failed yourself. You failed.

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is: if I look
at the crystal moon,
at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

-Pablo Neruda

For now

another drag
another day
another breath
that seals my fate

time runs
it never sleeps
it’s never stayed
it just leaves

another sting
another blow
another pain
that keeps me hollow

life goes on
and keeps on going
as I sit
breathing, thinking, breathing…

3am

What does sadness reap?
Mere words that rhyme
Embracing a heart that weeps.

Does sheer happiness ever arise
Amidst the drowning silence
Of a lonesome tearful eyes?

I know not when love should unfold
Before a soul that only longs
For another soul to hold.

If Only

Last night, I wanted to say all the things I’ve been keeping to myself. To fully let you in and make you see how broken I’ve become. So you can witness what effect you have in me and the consequences of your careless resolutions. To make you comprehend what your mindless decisions have done to me. I wonder when we’ll have our time. When will you give me your time? Cause I’ve been steadily walking after you; trying not to get close again, but just enough to be around you. I wonder if I’ll ever have my turn. When I can look behind and see you there, keeping watch, patiently waiting and holding on to every hope. A prayer, that maybe, just maybe, I’ll look around and walk toward you. But we’re never on the same pace. You said things were different, but you’ve denied me of what should have, yet again. You casually gave up the chance to make things better. Left me hanging on to every word, every promise, every hope I’ve built up for us. Because I believed you. Most importantly, because I love you. So much.

Last night, I wanted to stay away. I thought, maybe that would help ease my distress. But what good would that do to me, when I know the one real thing I want is you. It’s not fair how you are. You never let me win. Nothing’s happening, but I’m still getting hurt. It’s a sick cycle, whatever it is you do to me. Counting the days until you go back, because I know all this confusion will once again recede. You’d be back to your old self, old routine, same old everything. And I, I will still be here. I’m just here.

I need to break away from this way of thinking, free myself of you. But will I then find peace? When I know how close we were to finally getting there; when we almost had the chance to inanely fall all over again. I wish it mattered to you. If only you had stayed a little bit longer. If only you didn’t hold back on me, then maybe you’d see how happy we can be. If only I had my way. But I don’t, I never do.

This is how it's supposed to be then...

As we mature, we all have to make this transition. We all have to let go of some of our fairytale expectations in life and learn to embrace a kind of life that can survive a few hard winters. A life that has been tested is far more inspiring than a a life that has never known anything but bliss.

A Clincher

Have you ever made a deal with yourself before plunging into anything? I have.

NEVER SETTLE.
For anything less than the best.
For anything uncertain and compromising.
For anything that differs from what should be.

With and in anything I get myself into, be it as mundane as my shopping spree or time consuming as relationships. What can I say? I know what I want. I get what I want and know when and how to get it. (And I’m stating this without meaning to be a bitchy push over or anything, I’m just trying to make a point.)

And then it hit me hard right smack on the face. A choice I made with a blink of an eye and a skip of a heart beat. A choice that by the time I sat down and think about it, it has already gripped my chest. And there seems to be no turning back anymore, just because I do not want to. I have fallen into a quicksand. All of a sudden I’ve forgotten about the deal I struck with myself. My standards toppled over. I settled with being compromised with something that differs from what I have hoped and know things should be. And then I started losing my ground.

So what do you do when you’ve gone against your own deal-breaker? What do you do after putting yourself in a shaky and uncertain position? What do you say to yourself each time you get hurt and cry over something you have brought yourself into? The answers for these are easy. You know what to do. You know what to tell yourself. The gut-wrenching question is: WHY?

You knew where you were headed. You knew exactly what you were aiming for. You knew exactly what was coming. You knew you had it coming. You tell yourself to stop. You scold yourself each time you’re near tears. You force yourself to leave. It’s almost pathetic. And then you lose your guts to even start asking why, just because you’re pretty sure your answer might sound more pathetic than the state you are in now.

Are we where we are and have what we have just because it’s all we could get? In a phase of great expectations, is it ok to settle for something just because it’s all you can have? Since when did it become a welcomed thought to settle with the deal-breaker even at least for the mean time and forget about the deal itself?

You tell me. I told you I’ve been losing my ground, remember?

Calling Shots

n a short span of time that I am awake, I string together all these waking moments into an endless tapestry of colorful misadventures… albeit at times it may seem monotonous simply because I am stuck in the moment. But there are times that that moment can be very defining. I think what’s wonderful about the whole thing is that I have so much to learn: not only from experiences, but also from sharing them with others. Needless to say, I’ve had an interesting life ranging from secrets being uncovered for the first time to being turned into a ‘risk addict.’ Very interesting I must say, although I get quite uncomfortable when the topic is a material possession… I just don’t want people to get the wrong impression.

Being idle gets me really uptight. I need to be moving, thinking about new things, accomplishing tasks. Sitting pretty for an extended period of time just scares me -- I feel like I’m letting my youth pass me by. Inside me burns the insatiable desire to figuratively dirty my fingernails, scratch and bruise my ego, but collectively assert through random experiences that yes, I am alive, that I am not stupid, that I can be of resource to the world. I remedy this restlessness by working hard when I can, but drinking more when humanly possible. (hahahaha!!!)

All I really need right now is someone whom I can talk to, and share this lifetime with. People with open doors, open minds, and open souls. There is a huge sea of people, but all I’ll be asking for is a couple of cocktails and cigarettes, some dancing skills (maybe) and a very good conversation…

Tonight, I’m calling the shots!

Just A Little Bit

“The little love you gave, the little smile you returned, the little touch you let loose, the little interest you complied, the little care you showed… Are all so little, yet it is all I’ll ever need…”

Let loose a little smile for me
Show a little care
Give a little bit more love
A little interest to share

Would it be a little too much
If I asked you to be here
To stay a little while longer
And wipe a little drop of tear

Is it a little bit of your time
A little too much for you to spare
All I ask is just a little bit
Or is it a little too much for you to bear



11 February 2008

Everything You Want

You need someone who will laugh at your pranks and will not go ballistic on you. You want someone whom you won’t have to explain your thought to because you know that she knows very well what you mean. You want someone who wouldn’t really have to be there or here or wherever you are because you know that she doesn’t have to look for you nor at you from afar because you know she’s kept you safe in her heart and that she’ll always be at your beck. You need someone whom you would be at ease with to reveal who really are and what you really feel because she is not someone whom you think you have to hide your true emotions from, pretending to be strong. You need someone whom you won’t be ashamed of pouring your hopes and dreams and wishes and fears and insecurities with, someone to whom you would be true and honest in showing your own faults and weaknesses and uncertainties. You won’t have to beg just to be assured of the love and care and understanding and concern and sincerity you’re giving and needing and wanting in return. Who you really want is someone – that one person who would love you and accept you for the man that you are.

That’s what you want. That’s what you need. Find her. When you do, keep her. Love her not because you need to, not because you have to, but because that’s what you really want to do.

Your First Episode

"Happy New Year!" What a wonderful start... evrything is just so peachy.

…It adds to the pain, the pain of being set aside all because of an uncertainty of the love you did not ask for to begin with. A love you did not even hope for. It doubles when you learn that that person you love could cause you such pain even without meaning to.

And you could not, would not blame him for all the heartbreak you are going through because you know it may have been beyond him to cause you so much pain. And the fault, should there be any, might have even been yours. That is the fault you’ve taken when you decided to love that person.

It is because when you love someone, you are bound to give away not only your heart, not only a stem of your emotion and a strand of your thoughts. Loving someone goes beyond merely sharing a part of your life, hopes and dreams. When you love someone, you actually live a life together, hope together in making both your dreams come true for and with each other.

When you love someone, not only are you giving away yourself completely, but the power for that person to hurt you, to disappoint you, to break you. You become vulnerable to every single action and even to the unspoken thought of that person. You succumb not only to your love and relationship, but you also submit your whole self to him; the same way that he should to you.

But no matter how profound all these may seem, there still lies an irony in it. No matter how much you work for it, no matter how much you love, no matter how much of yourself you offer, there will never be a guarantee that it will last. There shall be no certainty that what you have with each other as of the moment shall transcend through time and everything else.

You are faced with the fact that there still is a greater chance that you would be left hanging. And such a predicament would only assure you of being left with a faltering faith and a breaking heart, leaving you slowly and painfully crumbling towards a losing end.

All that is left is for you to mourn in self-pity, and realize that life has once again taken an awful turn, playing a cruel joke and a heartless prank, betraying you; to be given hope and faith for all this time, only to be stolen away in an instant. You loose your ground, your balance, your grip, not only on everything else around you, but on your own lone self as well. There are no words to describe the emotion, the pain, the misery of waiting for something you do not even know would even still be there in the end, and the possible loss.

There is no word to describe the ache of waiting when you stand lost amidst the shattered self you now own; lost along with the time that just keeps slipping away from you.

You hold on to yourself while grasping for your sanity, trying hard to remember all the preparations you went through while anticipating for the inevitable pain of a love lost. But again you tremble more upon realizing how easily you have forgotten how to cope with a broken heart the moment you decided to open your heart and love once again.


written January 2008

And so it goes...

You scare me.

I’m afraid that one morning you will wake up and realize that you don’t love me anymore. Or worse, that you never loved me at all, and that you merely cared.

I’m afraid that at some point, when you’re walking to your car, you’ll realize that I was just that nice, sweet girl you befriended who happened to stand beside you at that time when you were contemplating about committing yourself to having a serious relationship. And that the only reason you did stay and choose me was because that was what you wanted at the time – to have a regular girlfriend. What will you do when it occurs to you that that’s just what I am: a regular girlfriend – and not that someone you’re certain of being with far longer than expected?

I’m afraid that there will come a moment, when you’re lying next to me while I sleep and you’d suddenly think to yourself: “What if I had waited a little while longer and set my eyes beyond this girl beside me, would I have found somebody better? What if there’s that one perfect girl who fits my ideals and would love me the very same way this girl I’m with, had I not been too rash, too excited and too much in a hurry to decide to be with who I’m with right now? Or what if I had stopped for a moment and turned my back and gave the last woman I was with another chance, could she have been the better choice?” Have you started having these thoughts?

I’m afraid of closing my eyes and falling asleep, letting you out of my sight, leaving you for even the slightest moment that your mind should wander and linger to such thoughts and doubts. And I’m afraid to wake up and find out that you have actually fallen into the pit of these thoughts like quicksand. Leading you to forget about me

I tremble every time I don’t hear from you, when we’re not together. Every time you fall into silence when we’re together. And each time, these fears haunt me, engulfing me, swallowing my sanity whole; causing me so much pain, hurting me. And every time that you are not beside me, I am more assured that one day I will find you gone. .. one day when I will watch you walk away from me, never to return again.

I am so scared.

I’m afraid that for one minute, when you look at me, you’ll see someone else you’d wish would rather be with you… a past love or a stranger you have randomly passed by. I’m afraid that when that minute takes its turn, you’ll be too kind not to let me know, knowing that you will hurt me terribly. And it will. And you’ll then choose to stay, not because you still love me, but because you’d feel bad about yourself for causing me such pain even if it is through your thoughts alone.

I’m afraid that if and once I find out all these have in truth taken place, I could only watch you leave with tears in my heart and a smile on my face just so you would not feel bad about yourself, your decision and the new choice you took. If only to see you happy, I might just let you go. Who’s to tell what should happen next? I’m still too afraid to even think, lest, look beyond that smile I would put on.

I’m afraid to even welcome these fears and say them out loud, confide to someone closest to me, because I’m afraid that these fears will consume me and blind me from trusting you and loving you completely.

I’m afraid that I have come to love you far more than I should have allowed myself to.

This is all new to me. The fear. The pain. I have long anticipated love. And I have never thought that upon finding it, I will eventually learn how to fear love itself.

But it is not in loving you that much that I’m most afraid of. It is in the thought that if these fears should hold true, a wonderful man would not only eventually walk away from my love, but may walk out of my life as well.

I’m frightened.


UNSENT
10 November 2007

"I have got to be more than just your right decision. I’m worth more than that. I deserve better than being just the perfect choice."

What the F*ck?!

You find yourself at a point where you can’t help but think: Is my life going anywhere? You’re twenty-something, and you’ve always thought that at that age you’d have the most fun. But it doesn’t always work that way. You couldn’t wait to get past 21. Yes, you are now legal. You can buy alcohol at the liquor store or go to a bar and order that vodka drink you’ve been salivating for since your older friends started drinking. You couldn’t wait to get out of highschool because you knew that there was something bigger out there, bigger than the school paper, bigger than your prom. Back then all you worried about was making the grade. And your biggest problems were either how you would tell your best friend that you’ve been in love with him/her since pre-school, or if you get to bring home the championship trophy for basketball. It was the same thing with college. You couldn’t wait to get out of college. F*ck classes, and the dorms and that air-headed bitch in fifth row who couldn’t tell what a verb was from a noun, but could tell you how to spot a fake Prada purse. Once again you thought that there was something bigger out there. Bigger than frat parties, basketball games and those goddamn exhibits that you needed to do to f*cking graduate. No more sneaking out the dorms just to go party at that new club that everyone’s talking about since you’re independent now and you’ve got your degree and you think you can get away with everything. It’s true. There is something bigger out there. Bigger issues. Bigger problems. Bigger bitches (with real Prada purses). Now all you can think about is how you miss the old days and how you regret doing the things that you did (i.e. smoking that one whole stick of cigarette for a hundred bucks just to prove to your friends that you’re cool), and now you’ve ended up with a stinky habit that you can’t go on a day without. You wish that you did the things that you wanted to do, like date that one guy that you thought was soooo boring (because everyone said so, but deep down inside you really thought he was cool), and he was cool, he was more mature than most of the guys you’d gone out with. Worldly, is the best word to describe him.

Today, you’ve got friends who are mommies and daddies. And you realize that they have moved on. You tease them that they’re so much like their parents, and are so old because when you ask them to come drinking with you, it’s all in vain. They’ve got their own lives now. And you tell your single friends that your married friends have become homebodies, and back then they were the life of the party. And you say that you’re so glad that you’re still single and living the life that everyone wants. But a part of you knows that that’s not true, because while you may be partying all night and coming home at 3 in the morning, your married friends are all tucked in bed and satisfied that they’ve put their babies to sleep.

Nowadays, you worry about money, when you didn’t have to back when you were younger. Back then the only time you worried about money was Christmas or anniversaries. About 10 years ago you had a string of boys following you around, sending you love notes, chocolates and flowers. Your most embarrassing moment in life was tripping in front of your crush and the whole school. You worried about the fact that you might not get invited to the coolest party of the year or when you do get invited, will your parents even let you go? You agonize over who your prom date is going to be or what color dress to wear. Nowadays you wish it was that simple. You create new resolutions every year, but end up not doing any one of them, because you’re set in your ways. You promise to be more open to new ideas. Or to give that one creep a chance (even when you really don’t have a choice anymore, since dating is so hard these days and you’re really out of practice). You swear to quit smoking but the next day you find yourself at the grocery store paying for a pack of cigarettes.

A time machine would be a perfect present. That way you can just relive all those moments. Answer all those math questions like a genius. Not buy that expensive perfume that you gave your first girlfriend since you know that she’s just going to break up with you a month later. Most especially, do the crazy things you did with your best friends. Like sneak out of the dorm just to meet your boyfriends, and do a better job at making up excuses and covering all the bases. You can never be too sure. You remember the times you spent goofing off with your friends. Getting drunk, waking up with a hangover. You especially remember the times your friends’ brothers hit on you and you feel like puking in your mouth. You have that one friend who streaked in the park past midnight, another who was on her knees asking for forgiveness from another friend. A friend who was obsessive compulsive, you got so used to her counting, her number was 5. A friend who puked in front of the school chapel and the friend who came up with lies to cover for you. That one friend who would always take breaks from her studies and you’d be forced to take breaks with her, too. The friend who would do your homework for ten bucks (the moneymaker). The friend who would pick you up at 4am when you were feeling so down. The group’s boyfriend, because he was always hanging around, and everyone tried kissing him on the lips but never succeeded. That one best friend that you never fought with ever since you found each other because you both felt that it was beneath the two of you and you felt so mature about it. Friends that you made a mixed tape with your favorite songs using that coke booth karaoke thingy. They’re the kind of friends that after so many years being apart you still have that connection and it’s like nothing had ever changed.

But you don’t have a time machine. You live in the present. And you can’t change the past. So now you worry about your job and what’s next for you. You think 10 years ahead, where are you going to be, will you still be doing what you’re doing. How are your future kids going to look like (that’s if you ever get married), and yes, are you ever going to get married? It seems like your life is just going in circles and it won’t stop. Patterns patterns patterns. That’s all you see. So you end up thinking: what the hell am I doing? You didn’t think that after college you’d still be looking for that one BIG thing. And you still don’t know what it is. You don’t know what you’re looking for. It’s like you’re in a room with no windows and the lights are turned off, and you’re bumping into everything, hurting yourself and others. That’s how it feels. You just want to go back. Back to when everything was simple and you didn’t have to overanalyze everything. But you can’t because one day you’re going to realize that it is what it is. And you’re just going to have to f*cking suck it up.

Nicotine & Caffaine

One long drag. One sip.

Friday. The last day of a very long stressful, tiring week, and everybody was eager to leave the workplace as fast as the feet could permit. It’s another toast with the BIG bad city that never sleeps. Bright lights, bright lives.

Pitter. Patter. The rain began its rhyme. But nobody seemed to notice. Nobody seemed to care. I almost didn’t. Until I no longer did.

I spent the night at a coffee shop with a dear friend; most of the time lounging around in meek silence – just people-watching, contemplating, mumbling, smiling thoughtfully while enjoying each other’s quiet company. The times we chose to mumble things were (as it has been lately) quite numbered and less frequent. It was (as always) usually when we saw something appalling or ‘mockingly’ funny.

…another long drag. another sip…

We never seemed to take notice of the time until after awhile when the first ray of the sun peeked through the silhouettes of the buildings around us, this time when we were already lounging around the deck. We have long gone home and have given up on partying the night away. We preferred to have the very long and insightful talk (we both have missed since graduating from college and leaving the ladies’ dormitory) that we’ve always had and enjoyed whenever we get to spend time together lounging around and hangin’-out.

…too many drags, none to sip…

There were talks about death, and talks about pain. There was a great appreciation of life and a number of critiques on how crazy and ironic it could get. We reminisced about the good old-school memories we shared and the mishaps we’ve gone through -- the wins and the losses that mattered, and still matters up to this day. We laughed about the hopes and dreams, no matter how insane and foolish they were -- and still are, but wished hard for each to come true. We never avoided laying out the fears we have as of the moment. And somehow, just saying all of it out loud to somebody you trust your life with makes everything okay.

…none to drag, it’s time to sleep…

Isn’t it wonderful to have somebody enjoy the serenity of silence with? To have somebody understand what little wisdom you’ve gathered and have soon claimed to be your own (no matter how young you still are)? There’s a difference between the love dedicated to a lover and a love devoted to a companion and a treasured comrade. It’s a great bond most of us have chosen to call ‘friendship.’ I choose to call it a pact -- between sisters by heart.

Have I ever thanked you? Here’s to good coffee and a good light. Here’s to you and our good life. Here’s to you, here’s to you.

…silence.

The (Un) Expected..?!

"Letting go, even if it hurts, doesn't mean you have to let go of everything. You just have to let go of the person and your feelings for her/him but the memories will always be there whether it's good or bad. Because everytime you remember those memories, it will always put a smile into your heart. And be glad that once in your life this person made you happy and put colors into your life even if it's just for a while."

Ouch. That kinda hurt... I didn't expect for something like it to sting.

It's almost lunch time. I've been browsing through the net when I thought of checking into Your profile. And then I saw this comment. I don't know, but for some reason, i felt a sting. A really deep one. My mind just went blank and I suddenly didn't feel like doing or thinking or feeling anything else.

What is this?! This isn't me. It's never been my style to care about old flames of the people I'm with. I never cared that much. I've never been as disconcerted about mundane and petty, unthreatening things like this. Come to think about it, I've never been disconcerted over those things, but then again, I've started considering this certain matter as complicated and significant threatening concern.

God I feel so foolish! Good thing for her, she seems to have let go of him. Seemingly. It's just too unfortunate for me though that I just can't... darnnit... not even seemingly the least.

I just hate how much I have come to love you.

Crystal Wineglass

We met three years ago. Although he wasn’t the first guy I saw, he was the only guy (as far as I could remember) who caught my attention in the workplace. He was dark, with round puppy-dog eyes that matched a boyish smile that somehow hid a naughty, teasing sense that just intrigued and appealed to me. He stood tall, but not that tall. Just right for my stance, I suppose. Nonetheless, I was capriciously (?!) drawn to him.

I never really was the type to flaunt myself, let alone make a step towards any guy, no matter how much ‘in like’ or smitten I am. I could be one hell of a tease though, but I never really got around to walking, let alone, running after any guy for that matter. But what I could do is to lead him towards me. And lead I did.

There were these flirtatious one-liners and lingering looks and hidden smiles behind all the bickering we had. I was intoxicated by his effect on me. I don’t know about him, but I felt this certain attraction and chemistry between us. It was like two crystal wineglasses clicking.

But don’t get me wrong. Attraction doesn’t equal emotion -- at least for me, as much as love doesn’t define lust. But just as one could not ignore the other, I considered and actually welcomed feeling all these: attraction, emotion, love and lust. The attraction was already a dead give-away; the emotion didn’t necessarily involve serious romantic anticipations; the only love concerned was the thought of how I loved the girl I was around him; and lust? Go figure.

He was like those Swiss dark chocolates. Addicting and intoxicating. Rich and sinful (and by all means, I’m referring to these two words figuratively). He was right there, dangling himself flamboyantly -- teasing me, intriguing me, tempting me. How could this chocoholic (boy-crazy) girl say no? Simple. I just said so and walked away. And walk I did towards my then-boyfriend.

But we’ve always kept each other posted about our lives every once in a while. There were those quirky news and relationship hang-ups, the simpler weekend get-away and party plans, those recent bar-room and bedroom jokes we’ve picked up from around us. We’ve talked about everything and nothing else and in every which way we felt like. It was cute and cozy, really.

Fast forward to now (three years later), I finally got around to pouncing on him the moment my now-ex boyfriend walked out on me. How did it happen? With a snap of a lighter…

I was in a frenzy, being duped. I had to talk to someone who would be highly opinionated but never judgmental. Someone who would take me seriously but would not be overtly serious about the heartbreak I was going through. Someone who could drag my weary mind away from the anger, disappointment, devastation and everything else that a cheating partner could cause the disconcerted girl in me. Someone who also has been cheated on and still had the perfect sense, coolness and confidence to get a move on and smoke, drink and just chill like there’s just no tomorrow.

We talked, laughed, goofed around, and laughed some more. And then we flirted, talked, laughed, and flirted some more. And like two crystal wineglasses, we clicked and toasted to something nice that we knew we both shared.

Like those two crystal glasses, our similarities were all clear (at least to me). We followed the same line of reasoning and had the same points and opinions about things and life in general. We speak the same lingo and share the same interests in the simplest, mundane things such as music and movies and daily activities -- and again, about life in general. We both had our eccentricities and complexities that we both understood, accepted and agreed on.

I thought we had the same depth and sympathy. I thought he saw and weighed our friendship the way I did. I thought he was a keeper, a lifer. I thought he was that one man that a complicated woman like me would always keep. I thought we’ve established a certain pact of understanding and trust that we would always have each other to look back at. I thought wrong.

I was honest with him from the very start -- in everything I said and did. I was me -- with all the fad and sense I could muster. But while I gave more precedence to our friendship and more faith to his words, he managed to withhold himself from me. I was well aware of how much image and reputation mattered to him, because just like him, I stood well-guarded when it concerned mine. But I never thought that to him, image and reputation counted more than a deeper friendship.

Rumors, like cheap wine, could never go unnoticed for someone who thinks too highly of himself. No matter how clear and refined the crystal wineglasses are, the after-taste of a bitter cheap wine would always linger in the lips, and even in the back of the mind.

I still think of him every once in a while. The thought of him still lingers in the back of my mind, like the taste of that cheap, bitter red wine. There aren’t any dark chocolates left, just that dark space that could not be seen from a crystal wineglass. And I feel sorry, for the bond lost and the love that his callous actions have been forcing me to forget.
There is only a single empty wineglass that has remained. And some nights I lay awake, waiting and praying, not for another wineglass to click and toast with… but for a good red wine to fill it up and intoxicate me. One who, just like he did, would share the attraction, emotion, love and yes, even lust…

Cynical

Do you think I’ll ever have my happy ending?

It’s crazy how we always want to find out how the novel or the movie ends every single time we pine for the latest paperback novel or movie premier. But once they’re over, parang bitin di ba? Like, yun na yun? So what happens next? What happens after The Prince wakes up Cinderalla with his passionate kiss? What happens after The Prince slips on the glass slippers on Sleeping Beauty’s petit foot? (Okay, my fairytale IQ has just dropped from slim to none -- so sue me, Grimm Bros.!!) And what’s up with that one and only Prince tying the knot with all o’ them hot royal chicks, anyhow? (F*@#ING lucky selfish frog…)

I’m not on to this bittersweet, melodramatic, sour-graping crappy mood (really). My original idea here is to just ask what happens after living happily ever after. So… what does happen after the infamous “ever after?” Why call it… no, why even consider living happily ever after a happy ending for each and every single (real and surreal) story? It’s a complete irony, don’t you think?

END, as Mr. Webster graciously defines it, means “final part”. Come to think of it: in the real (and I mean REAL world), after marriage, or courtship, or after just a plain hook-up with your prey, the wife ends up doing the dishes, the laundry and the husband as well. The girlfriend ends up worrying and nagging and pissing off the boyfriend. The hiker (forgive me, I don’t know how else to put boy-toy or skank in a much more pleasant way) ends up just screwed, blown away and spent. It doesn’t look like the end has come for either one of the partners at all. Or has it? It doesn’t look all too happy either, does it? Does it?! So what’s with The Happy Ending? Why should ending be happy in the first place? It sounds so final. The end of it; FINIS. NIL. NADA. Done. Does that sound happy, even at least in a seemingly ideal storybook concept?

But there always are some short, short, (and I mean) short stories told and shared every now and then about those moments that leave you with that warm, fussy feeling all over. Like a one-liner from a husband who tells you how beautiful his wife is as she lays in the hospital bed all puffy and bloated after giving birth to their first born. How does it make you feel after having the slightest glimpse of an elderly couple just holding each other’s hands even if they’re just sitting right beside each other in an airport or in a park? Do you ever feel nostalgic every time you overhear somebody saying ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’ while they’re on the pay phone? If we are the ones caught up in such situations, would we actually ever want for those priceless moments to end?

But what if you haven’t even reached the curb that leads to the bridge of The Happy Ending, which leads to HappilyEverAftersville? Now I think this is where agitation hits us hard (and I mean really hard) in the head and drives us to be so desperate for at least a foreseeable ending of how things are going to turn out for us. What will it be like? What will I be like? How will my story turn out in the end? Will I end up being a suburban wife, a career mom, or an old spinster? How is it going to be for me? I bet a number of individuals (and it doesn’t matter whether they’re in a relationship or not) has asked themselves these at least once. I just did. And I’m afraid I’d still be asking them even after I’ve reached the end of the next paragraph. Heck, it’s most likely that I’d be asking these questions over and over again long after I’m done with this write up.

I have a theory (and yes, I’m still wondering about the questions I posted in the previous paragraph). We are all so eager to rush things just so we could find out how everything adds up in the end that we unconsciously and meticulously plan out our own ending according to our own ideals and even woes. Because of this, the whole thing either blows up in our own faces or slips right past us without us even noticing something wonderful has actually happened; that those things that we’ve been watching out for and planning and worrying about has just ended and has passed us by. The next thing we know, it’s already the ‘ever after’ that’s passed right under our insensitive noses. That’s why when we look at it and actually start seeing and watching that ‘ever after’, all we see are those downbeat instances that unconsciously convince us of all the cynicism we could muster and be paranoid about.

I’ve gotten used to plotting my own story down to the last space and exclamation point. But I’m afraid they would never get published or staged in my own reality. I’m afraid the cynic in me who takes tragedy with perfect grace and elegant poise has started to brush aside the child in me who so desperately wants to believe in the magic of fairytales and happy endings. Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten hurt and bruised so many times. Maybe it’s because I’ve cried so much both for love and pain. Maybe… But then again, it’s probably because, just like the ones caught in those short, short warm-fussy-feeling stories, I wouldn’t want such moments to end the instant that I am there. But will I ever get there again? Ever?

Is there really a prince out there for me? A knight in shining armor could be a plus, but a prince will do just fine. Nothing fancy needed, really. The title isn’t even necessary. He could just be a peasant boy for all I care. What matters to me is that he will be there across the bridge and carry me home to HappilyEverAftersville… But will I ever reach that bridge. If so, when? And by the time I do, would he still be there? Or would I take so long figuring everything out that he’d finally turn around and walk back without ever seeing me? Then again, what if he’s crossed the bridge himself to meet me half way and figure that I’m not the princess he wishes to carry home with him after all? That I was just a fairy or an elf or a cricket who would accompany him in searching for the queen that he has longed for all his waking hours? How is everything going to turn out for me then?



“Don’t think. Don’t analyze. Just be. The pain just comes from the interpretation.”

How I Am

When I want to…
I talk slow
My voice is deep, quite raspy
I whisper
I look at you straight in the eye then leave you with a lingering glance after a long while
I speak my mind
I never falter, never miss a beat, and observe closely (and watch closely…)
I say what I want to say and make you think what I want you to think
My movements are deliberately chosen

I am snobbish
I act like a spoiled rotten princess
I act, and keep on acting
I trample you with the words I have carefully chosen to speak
I dare you
I demand you to look at me and admire (and keep admiring…)
I let your whole consciousness revolve around me
I take your breath and your wits awayI manipulate

I am addicted to vanity
I care less and I am ruthless
I splurge on my desire without caution
I define what is wrong and what is right
I don’t intend to please
I don’t give a fuck
I say fuck whenever I want to
I make known the terms I want you to abide with
I deceive

I decline
I push you to your limits and drive you mad, even insane
I do everything my way
I intimidate you
I grab hold of your attention
I enjoy every minute that I piss you
I crush you
I cause you pain and pleasure
I would and could blow your mind

This is how I am when I want to.

I close my eyes seductively
I am a tease and I seduce
I thirst for the kill and go for it like hell
I burn, I throb, I ache
I am a free spirit with a wild heart
I love deeply and passionately
I could let you tame me and hold my reins
I am a hopeless romantic
I am hopeless and romantic

I make love
I make love even without touching
I feel deeply, brazenly
I am vulnerable
I tremble and shiver
I could be yours
I could love you
I could give you everything you would never even have thought of asking
I dare you

This is how I really am:
Complicated.
True.
Trusting.
Vulnerable.
Naïve.
Can you handle me?


This is how I am.
Love me.

A Tale of Two Cities

A traveler nearing a great city asked a woman seated by the way side, "What are the people like in the city?"

How are the people where you came from?"

A terrible lot," the traveler responded. "Mean, untrustworthy, detestable in all respects."

"Ah," said the woman, "you will find them the same in the city ahead."

Scarcely was the first traveler gone when another one stopped and also inquired about the people in the city before him. Again the woman asked about the people in the place the traveler had left.

"They were fine people; honest, industrious, and generous to a fault. I was sorry to leave," declared the second traveler.

Responded the wise woman: "So you will find them in the city ahead."

- Best of Bits and Pieces

"We don't see things (and people) as they are. We see them as we are."

Read Me

"Tell me who your friends are and I'll tell you what kind of person you are..."

I'm not quite sure if I said this right, but there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that I beg to disagree with such a statement.

Friends alone and the rest of the company you keep do not define you and the whole of your character. It's the same thing as quoting another cliche, "judging a book by its cover." Because neither physical attributes nor social circle alone could speak highly of you as a whole. It takes principles, morals, conviction and attitude to show the rest of the world who you really are and what you're truly made of.

It's crazy (and unfair), that all of us are almost always tagged with a certain title or nickname based on either our appearance or the friends we choose to keep - - usually, both. Think HIGHSCHOOL JOCK, PROM QUEEN, AND THE GEEK. And for what it's all worth, what others think of us are usually based from the first impressions they have of us.

Sadly (for those whose images have not been so nice) and fortunately (for those with cool and appropriate titles), these first impressions last longer than it should. But then again, aren't we all guilty of tagging each other of such nicknames and titles based from our very own opinions (sometimes, of what first comes to our minds upon seeing them and sometimes from what we actually want to think of them -- although I'm betting the latter usually is the main issue..) of our peers?

For the most part, all these surely sound so self-righteous and even self-serving to begin with, I know. Self-righteous? Nope, I have no intentions of being (and acting) like one. Self-serving? Abso-fuckin'-lutely. Why? It's simple, really. Since I'm sure I'd be judged according to what you see from my account, I thought it would be best to treat you for a guilt trip first to keep you from judging me quite harshly. Defensive? Damn right I am. But I think it still is a good way of introducing myself (to perfect strangers who have unintentionally stumbled upon my blog) and the person I've become (to friends and acquaintances -- old and new ones alike).

Anyhow, I'm assuming that at some point, in case you've found me in Friendster or Multiply, you've already scanned the list of friends I have in this account and have made your impressions of me from the pictures I've posted. Well, good for you if you've actually found interesting people to befriend &/or get connected to, or if you have found long, lost friends of yours. (Good for ME if you thought I look great in the pictures I've posted.. haha..!) I suppose those are probably enough for you to have an opinion of the kind of person that I am.

But there will always be more to me than you'll ever know. But that doesn't keep me from wanting you to stop, and READ ME, because I've got stories and thoughts to tell (sensible ones, mind you) -- and it won't be just about vanity and my lone self. It'll all come down to one thing, I know -- being judged and looked at in a certain way and be tagged with a certain nickname. But I guess that's alright, because I know I'm not the only one being judged. And because I'm guilty of judging random people the very same way every single day. Aren't we all?

Getting Started

Hey Stranger,

How's your life? Is everything going according to how you planned it? Has everything finally fallen into place? Have you quenched your thirst for life itself? Is happiness right in the palm of your hand? Are you there yet?

Maybe you already are. Maybe you aren't quite there yet. Maybe you're still getting there. Maybe, just maybe, you might want some company. Just in case, I'd be glad to welcome you aboard in this little "dot-in-the-net" ride I'd like to call *MY LIFE (or somethin' like it...)

Read me. Take a slice of my thoughts. And if you think you're the only one who has ever stumbled into the most unreasonable and illogical situation or the most pathetic musings and opinions, maybe you'd have to think again and realize that you might be quite mistaken... Because there just might be two of us.


It's just me.
Just Sands.