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The Problem of Attachments
4 months ago
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Monday, August 31, 2009
revival
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end - Semisonic
I think I'll have to resort to something I wrote when I was still a little sane enough to be poet-ish
Of Holiness and My Existence
april 14, 2006
Life may never leave me empty
but is life offering me the right things?
Am i doing the right things?
Or just following my instincts?
Instincts that somehow doesnt work all the time
I try to believe that they do...
but you always show me that I'm wrong...
and I end up sinking lower and lower till I can't find the strength to get up again..
I sink..I rise a little..I sink deeper..
Again and again..
And as I continue
Yes, I stil have an inch of courage to...
and another face arises
another face with uncertain purpose..
will you finally tell me to go ahead,
because you're finally looking at the right thing
and you're right in time..at the right place...
But I won't force it...
I'll let you drive me wherever
and if my moment is still far away..
just be with me..
every single time...
everyday of my life..
I won't trust my instincts anymore..
I'll trust you this time...
sunset
mince my words with this as background music:
The last time I'll ever think about things
hopefully I get to keep it.
The last time I'll say your name over and over
between sleeping and the waking hours
like an addict
like a madman
ever so stubborn and foolish.
The last time I'll wish
that things will get better
Coz I know
when I step out
finally...
with all of me...
Everything would be.
A thousand new dreams to make.
Millions of seconds to recover.
There's no turning back.
Let this chapter be over.
The last time I'll ever think about things
hopefully I get to keep it.
The last time I'll say your name over and over
between sleeping and the waking hours
like an addict
like a madman
ever so stubborn and foolish.
The last time I'll wish
that things will get better
Coz I know
when I step out
finally...
with all of me...
Everything would be.
A thousand new dreams to make.
Millions of seconds to recover.
There's no turning back.
Let this chapter be over.
Bigote
something I got from email (sent by issuesandpolitics@gmail.com):
Bigote
29 August 2009
It is pretty futile for Joseph Estrada to deny that anyone called him by the nickname “Bigote.”
I’m sure no one called him that in his face. I am also sure that when he was President, all his underlings referred to him by that fond nickname.
In the same manner, all of Fidel Ramos’ underlings referred to him as “Tabako” when he was President. I am sure no one called him that in his face. It was like a code-name that was not at all secret — like corporate executives are referred to, with great deference, by their initials.
Strangely, no one referred to Ramos as “Tabako” or Estrada as “Bigote” after they left the presidency. Ramos was henceforth referred to as “FVR” and Estrada was simply “Erap.”
There must be some sociological explanation for that. Perhaps people used these slightly derogatory nicknames to signal they were in the loop or were familiar with those who were.
Estrada’s denial was prompted by the mention of a certain “Bigote” in that controversial affidavit submitted by Cezar Mancao, who appears to know who might be responsible for the Dacer-Corbito double-murder incident. In all fairness, Mancao did not clearly state that this “Bigote” ordered the murders done. But he did suggest that the murders were done to possibly please him.
Rather than deny that anyone called him “Bigote”, a rather flimsy defense, Estrada should deny that he had a hand in the grisly crime. After all, in the Mancao affidavit, “Bigote” enters the picture only in the third person. He is name-dropped rather than directly implicated.
The equally controversial former police officer Reynaldo Berroya did volunteer the opinion that it was out of Estrada’s character to order a murder. Perhaps his name — or rather, his nickname — was invoked by underlings with a penchant for murdering people.
Berroya should know whereof he speaks. He was a close associate of Estrada. More than that, he was a drinking crony of the man who would be president — albeit for an abbreviated term.
Berroya also knows well a certain Panfilo Lacson, former police chief and now senator. He has had a rather public tiff with the senator who now feels he is being implicated in the twin murders. As an indication of that, he has put out political ads saying the accusations are politically motivated.
Those ads are a little strange. They seem to be an attempt to settle the serious accusations in the court of public opinion rather than in the court of law, where evidence is more rigorously appraised.
Berroya has nothing to gain by volunteering to clear Estrada of involvement in the gruesome crime. He is simply expressing his judgment based on a reading of character. By doing so, the former police intelligence official is also suggesting the crime was committed under the former president’s nose by people invoking his name to make a beastly act seem authoritative.
It is not too hard to agree with Berroya’s estimate of Estrada’s character. The former president is given to making nasty remarks that are often uncalled for. But that is part of a cultivated public persona rather than a measure of man’s real personality.
Those who have known Estrada up close quickly understand that there is a bit of a child-man in this character. He is always in search of fun, relishing the good time and rather easy to forgive anyone who might have aggrieved him.
His is not a hard soul. He is certainly not the type to order the murder of his friends.
Those responsible for the Dacer-Corbito murders have poisoned souls. They think little about terminating lives — or about ruining people. They are obsessed with the face of death.
Which, I might easily agree with Berroya’s assessment, is not the sort of person Estrada is.
But Estrada should improve on his defense in the light of the Mancao affidavit. He should go beyond that flimsy disclaimer that no one calls him “Bigote.”
Nor should he do a Lacson and dismiss the Mancao affidavit as nothing more than a political hatchet job. Two men were killed. Their remains were burned. Their bones ground to make identification difficult. The men who did this did not only have motive and means. They also had the leisure to attempt to destroy all evidence of the crime.
In fact, we were told by the lawyers of one of the possible defendants that no one may be convicted for this crime — simply because the bodies of the supposed murder victims could not be produced. That is a satanically bizarre thing to say.
Estrada may not be complicit in this crime. But he is such an undisciplined person it is easy to believe that he could never have disciplined his underlings.
His best defense is to say this. Then go on to tell us what he knows of those troubled days when Dacer and Corbito were abducted and killed. Surely he must have an inkling of who might have done the gruesome deed.
He has everything to lose by simply muttering that no one calls him “Bigote.” He has everything to gain by being forthright about whatever information he might be privy to. The murders happened during his watch and should not be left to endless speculation as it stands to be yet another unexplained political killing. (end)
Bigote
29 August 2009
It is pretty futile for Joseph Estrada to deny that anyone called him by the nickname “Bigote.”
I’m sure no one called him that in his face. I am also sure that when he was President, all his underlings referred to him by that fond nickname.
In the same manner, all of Fidel Ramos’ underlings referred to him as “Tabako” when he was President. I am sure no one called him that in his face. It was like a code-name that was not at all secret — like corporate executives are referred to, with great deference, by their initials.
Strangely, no one referred to Ramos as “Tabako” or Estrada as “Bigote” after they left the presidency. Ramos was henceforth referred to as “FVR” and Estrada was simply “Erap.”
There must be some sociological explanation for that. Perhaps people used these slightly derogatory nicknames to signal they were in the loop or were familiar with those who were.
Estrada’s denial was prompted by the mention of a certain “Bigote” in that controversial affidavit submitted by Cezar Mancao, who appears to know who might be responsible for the Dacer-Corbito double-murder incident. In all fairness, Mancao did not clearly state that this “Bigote” ordered the murders done. But he did suggest that the murders were done to possibly please him.
Rather than deny that anyone called him “Bigote”, a rather flimsy defense, Estrada should deny that he had a hand in the grisly crime. After all, in the Mancao affidavit, “Bigote” enters the picture only in the third person. He is name-dropped rather than directly implicated.
The equally controversial former police officer Reynaldo Berroya did volunteer the opinion that it was out of Estrada’s character to order a murder. Perhaps his name — or rather, his nickname — was invoked by underlings with a penchant for murdering people.
Berroya should know whereof he speaks. He was a close associate of Estrada. More than that, he was a drinking crony of the man who would be president — albeit for an abbreviated term.
Berroya also knows well a certain Panfilo Lacson, former police chief and now senator. He has had a rather public tiff with the senator who now feels he is being implicated in the twin murders. As an indication of that, he has put out political ads saying the accusations are politically motivated.
Those ads are a little strange. They seem to be an attempt to settle the serious accusations in the court of public opinion rather than in the court of law, where evidence is more rigorously appraised.
Berroya has nothing to gain by volunteering to clear Estrada of involvement in the gruesome crime. He is simply expressing his judgment based on a reading of character. By doing so, the former police intelligence official is also suggesting the crime was committed under the former president’s nose by people invoking his name to make a beastly act seem authoritative.
It is not too hard to agree with Berroya’s estimate of Estrada’s character. The former president is given to making nasty remarks that are often uncalled for. But that is part of a cultivated public persona rather than a measure of man’s real personality.
Those who have known Estrada up close quickly understand that there is a bit of a child-man in this character. He is always in search of fun, relishing the good time and rather easy to forgive anyone who might have aggrieved him.
His is not a hard soul. He is certainly not the type to order the murder of his friends.
Those responsible for the Dacer-Corbito murders have poisoned souls. They think little about terminating lives — or about ruining people. They are obsessed with the face of death.
Which, I might easily agree with Berroya’s assessment, is not the sort of person Estrada is.
But Estrada should improve on his defense in the light of the Mancao affidavit. He should go beyond that flimsy disclaimer that no one calls him “Bigote.”
Nor should he do a Lacson and dismiss the Mancao affidavit as nothing more than a political hatchet job. Two men were killed. Their remains were burned. Their bones ground to make identification difficult. The men who did this did not only have motive and means. They also had the leisure to attempt to destroy all evidence of the crime.
In fact, we were told by the lawyers of one of the possible defendants that no one may be convicted for this crime — simply because the bodies of the supposed murder victims could not be produced. That is a satanically bizarre thing to say.
Estrada may not be complicit in this crime. But he is such an undisciplined person it is easy to believe that he could never have disciplined his underlings.
His best defense is to say this. Then go on to tell us what he knows of those troubled days when Dacer and Corbito were abducted and killed. Surely he must have an inkling of who might have done the gruesome deed.
He has everything to lose by simply muttering that no one calls him “Bigote.” He has everything to gain by being forthright about whatever information he might be privy to. The murders happened during his watch and should not be left to endless speculation as it stands to be yet another unexplained political killing. (end)
Thursday, August 27, 2009
No stopping now
I noticed tonight that the world has been turning
While I've been stuck here dithering around
Well I know I said I'd wait around till you need me
But I have to go, I hate to let you down
But I can't stop now
I've got troubles of my own
Cause I'm short on time
I'm lonely
And I'm too tired to talk
I noticed tonight that the world has been turning
While I've been stuck here withering away
Well I know I said I wouldn't leave you behind
But I have to go, it breaks my heart to say
That I can't stop now
I've got troubles of my own
Cause I'm short on time
I'm lonely
And I'm too tired to talk
No one back home
I've got troubles of my own
And I can't slow down
For no one in town
And I can't stop now
And I can't slow down
For no one in town
And I can't stop now
For no one
Emotion keeps my heart on me
Emotion keeps my heart on me
Emotion keeps my heart on me
Emotion keeps my heart on me
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
just like a music video
in an attempt to revive my ideal side I would try to make things up:
Part 1: Mornings
A few mornings I wake up thinking about lots of things. While tossing and turning in my bed, pretending to sleep when I know I'm widely awake I wonder how my high school reunion would turn out, if we'll ever have one. I'm wondering how I'll approach someone or actually act normal in front of someone I've been dying to see but unfortunately is not included in my "its a small world" group. I wonder If I'll be able to drive my dream car -- a red and white or a solid black vintage mini cooper -- and would carnappers get off my back if I do. I however will stop when I realize I screwed up again big time. Darn it, I was careless enough to be myself again without thinking about other people.
I would like to believe that I'm a good person but like any normal (I think) individual, I screw things up without knowing it. Well in some cases I know, but in most cases I was just being me, honest. Sometimes I wish I could lie to not hurt anyone anymore or maybe even better, I wish I could be sensitive enough at times when it is badly needed rather than on events it is really unnecessary.
I've dreamt of getting a shrink one day, when I'm independent enough to make that act. My family thinks its a big joke but I think it would help me a lot. I just feel like a professional can untagle the messed up wires I have in me. I cannot do it alone, like how I cannot really impose spirituality and discipline in some cases.
As i sit in front of this computer, typing away, and making a good excuse and maneuver to fix things up, I wonder if other people are thinking the same or I'm just weird this way.
and then I eat.
Part 1: Mornings
A few mornings I wake up thinking about lots of things. While tossing and turning in my bed, pretending to sleep when I know I'm widely awake I wonder how my high school reunion would turn out, if we'll ever have one. I'm wondering how I'll approach someone or actually act normal in front of someone I've been dying to see but unfortunately is not included in my "its a small world" group. I wonder If I'll be able to drive my dream car -- a red and white or a solid black vintage mini cooper -- and would carnappers get off my back if I do. I however will stop when I realize I screwed up again big time. Darn it, I was careless enough to be myself again without thinking about other people.
I would like to believe that I'm a good person but like any normal (I think) individual, I screw things up without knowing it. Well in some cases I know, but in most cases I was just being me, honest. Sometimes I wish I could lie to not hurt anyone anymore or maybe even better, I wish I could be sensitive enough at times when it is badly needed rather than on events it is really unnecessary.
I've dreamt of getting a shrink one day, when I'm independent enough to make that act. My family thinks its a big joke but I think it would help me a lot. I just feel like a professional can untagle the messed up wires I have in me. I cannot do it alone, like how I cannot really impose spirituality and discipline in some cases.
As i sit in front of this computer, typing away, and making a good excuse and maneuver to fix things up, I wonder if other people are thinking the same or I'm just weird this way.
and then I eat.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
unexpectedly...
Got to watch the Time Traveler's Wife. Didn't enjoy it as much as the trailer. They couldv've gotten better actors, but despite the depth of emotions, it didn't fail to hit me with its best shot while nearing the end of the movie.
To give the story a second chance, I am now reading the book. I must say I'm loving the first few pages.
The lines that instantly hit me involved the discussion of the feeling of being left alone (the one who stays) and leaving (the one who has to go)...
Like any other love story its always easy to symphatize with the one who got left behind. We always root for the underdog.
But what does it feel like to leave?
For some its a feeling of freedom while its a burden especially if you're doing it as a sacrifice. Sometimes leaving causes more pain since you're risking yourself to uncertainty. It's also hard to explain your actions since some actions really can't be described by words especially if caused by an abstract thing.
But I think both parties get hurt as much especially if they care and love each other deep enough.
Yep, it all comes back to Tinkerbells (those who wait in vain) and Peter Pans (time travelers).
Anyhoo my dad and I had an unexpected foodtrip in Marikina awhile ago while Kombi hunting (for the lack of a son, I'm thinking my dad is thanking the world that I love vintage cars coz I'm a freakin old soul)
intermission: I saw a Mustang and Corvette in the shop too...droooool...
You won't miss it coz the facade's pretty hard to ignore.
The sandwiches and other food are so cheap. This mega-sized pandesal with chicken costs P25 (other restos would probably sell this for P50)
Photo contest for the night for me and MG while wasting time in Shang:
raindrops
and the winner is:
hahahahaha!
To give the story a second chance, I am now reading the book. I must say I'm loving the first few pages.
The lines that instantly hit me involved the discussion of the feeling of being left alone (the one who stays) and leaving (the one who has to go)...
Like any other love story its always easy to symphatize with the one who got left behind. We always root for the underdog.
But what does it feel like to leave?
For some its a feeling of freedom while its a burden especially if you're doing it as a sacrifice. Sometimes leaving causes more pain since you're risking yourself to uncertainty. It's also hard to explain your actions since some actions really can't be described by words especially if caused by an abstract thing.
But I think both parties get hurt as much especially if they care and love each other deep enough.
Yep, it all comes back to Tinkerbells (those who wait in vain) and Peter Pans (time travelers).
Anyhoo my dad and I had an unexpected foodtrip in Marikina awhile ago while Kombi hunting (for the lack of a son, I'm thinking my dad is thanking the world that I love vintage cars coz I'm a freakin old soul)
intermission: I saw a Mustang and Corvette in the shop too...droooool...
You won't miss it coz the facade's pretty hard to ignore.
The sandwiches and other food are so cheap. This mega-sized pandesal with chicken costs P25 (other restos would probably sell this for P50)
Photo contest for the night for me and MG while wasting time in Shang:
raindrops
and the winner is:
hahahahaha!
Friday, August 21, 2009
for this year's Ninoy Aquino Day
Two decades ago this is how an exiled father would talk to his only son:
Today, there are no exiles but the words are still familiar. I wonder how much micro organism from fastfood joints did we gulp for us to forget the love for our country? How many hours of internet and games and entertainment have we immersed ourselves into to forget the sacrifices of other people just for the democracy we are enjoying now?
How many kaching and sweet atm withdrawal machine sound do we have to hear to say that I'll do my country some good this time, I've had my share of the local economy...?
I wonder if other people did their usual things and not care... will our lives...your life...mine, and other people...would be as fine?
I have my own gameplan...it may not be through the streets but I know I'll get there someday and I'll help the country in my own little way...I hope everyone else is thinking the same...But honestly, being in the street stirs up your patriotism so its always a good place to get some inspiration. :D
Now that the EDSA icons are dead, Cory, Cardinal Sin...who will we look up to for strength for direction? I am not as familiar with the EDSA Revolution before since I wasn't fully aware of things yet despite being born already...but as I've heard the people just stormed the streets...unguided by advanced technology and media since the local scene is controlled. It's weird that now we have all the technology, we are more lazy to show our gameface.
I cannot blame Noynoy for saying in television interviews that he is not a super martyr who'll sacrifice everything for deomcracy like his dad, and then leave his son the same fate (if ever he'll have one) after another decade or two.
How many Aquinos do we have to sacrifice? and is it even their responsibility in the first place? shouldn't we all chip in for the country's sake? After all there are around 90 million Pinoys according to NSO's estimate.
The ball is now in our hands, let's not spoil our chance.
pictures from: http://www.noynoy.ph/
Today, there are no exiles but the words are still familiar. I wonder how much micro organism from fastfood joints did we gulp for us to forget the love for our country? How many hours of internet and games and entertainment have we immersed ourselves into to forget the sacrifices of other people just for the democracy we are enjoying now?
How many kaching and sweet atm withdrawal machine sound do we have to hear to say that I'll do my country some good this time, I've had my share of the local economy...?
I wonder if other people did their usual things and not care... will our lives...your life...mine, and other people...would be as fine?
I have my own gameplan...it may not be through the streets but I know I'll get there someday and I'll help the country in my own little way...I hope everyone else is thinking the same...But honestly, being in the street stirs up your patriotism so its always a good place to get some inspiration. :D
Now that the EDSA icons are dead, Cory, Cardinal Sin...who will we look up to for strength for direction? I am not as familiar with the EDSA Revolution before since I wasn't fully aware of things yet despite being born already...but as I've heard the people just stormed the streets...unguided by advanced technology and media since the local scene is controlled. It's weird that now we have all the technology, we are more lazy to show our gameface.
I cannot blame Noynoy for saying in television interviews that he is not a super martyr who'll sacrifice everything for deomcracy like his dad, and then leave his son the same fate (if ever he'll have one) after another decade or two.
How many Aquinos do we have to sacrifice? and is it even their responsibility in the first place? shouldn't we all chip in for the country's sake? After all there are around 90 million Pinoys according to NSO's estimate.
The ball is now in our hands, let's not spoil our chance.
pictures from: http://www.noynoy.ph/
Thursday, August 20, 2009
when I'm dead
My ex-boss posted this article in his Facebook notes
Time Article here
And it also got me thinking what will happen to my accounts when I die. I always think that I'll be dying from a disease which will slowly eat me...and then I will have more time to entrust my best friend my last letters to be sent out, passwords and stuff.
I dunno if she'll agree with that burden. I hope she does.
I remember my mom telling me a story when a student of theirs died. He was still young and he gave his brother or he left an Ultimate Warrior (yes from WWF) action figure in his room, inside a box covered in black art paper.
Before, I used to keep letters under my bed. It usually contains a lot of secret stuff like my personal journal and letters, things given to me. Now that I've burned it...that's settled.
My blog and sites: Not that I expect them to continue posting here and my Facebook. I guess it'll just disappear like a bubble into thin air or Facebook would sense that I am deceased and they'll put me on memorial profiles.
My stuff: my clothes would probably end up with my ate (actually even if i'm still breathing my clothes are still with her) my paintings...I'm hoping they'll be sold by then and the proceeds be given to charity...I actually don't have anything valuable to be taken cared of as of now...
funeral service: I don't want to be cremated unless they get all dramatic and throw me out to the sea. I would like my songs (future compositions) to be played to soothe people....an avp of good times and an exhibit of my works.
I guess what I really want is for people I cared about know that I care even in the afterlife...and that even if I'm dead they'll still be able to find comfort in the things I left behind...
if it's all taken cared off...I'm off. :D
Time Article here
And it also got me thinking what will happen to my accounts when I die. I always think that I'll be dying from a disease which will slowly eat me...and then I will have more time to entrust my best friend my last letters to be sent out, passwords and stuff.
I dunno if she'll agree with that burden. I hope she does.
I remember my mom telling me a story when a student of theirs died. He was still young and he gave his brother or he left an Ultimate Warrior (yes from WWF) action figure in his room, inside a box covered in black art paper.
Before, I used to keep letters under my bed. It usually contains a lot of secret stuff like my personal journal and letters, things given to me. Now that I've burned it...that's settled.
My blog and sites: Not that I expect them to continue posting here and my Facebook. I guess it'll just disappear like a bubble into thin air or Facebook would sense that I am deceased and they'll put me on memorial profiles.
My stuff: my clothes would probably end up with my ate (actually even if i'm still breathing my clothes are still with her) my paintings...I'm hoping they'll be sold by then and the proceeds be given to charity...I actually don't have anything valuable to be taken cared of as of now...
funeral service: I don't want to be cremated unless they get all dramatic and throw me out to the sea. I would like my songs (future compositions) to be played to soothe people....an avp of good times and an exhibit of my works.
I guess what I really want is for people I cared about know that I care even in the afterlife...and that even if I'm dead they'll still be able to find comfort in the things I left behind...
if it's all taken cared off...I'm off. :D
Duwag mode
Ganito na lang ba parati? di ka matatauhan kung hindi ka pagagalitan?
‘Teyktu’
By Conrado de Quiros
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 01:05:00 08/20/2009
Maraming nag-text sa akin matapos mabasa ’yung kolum ko noong Lunes, “Ser, isa pa nga.”
Bakit nga hindi? Bitin nga ang isa, parang beer. Agosto pa rin naman, at buwan pa rin ng Wika. At bukas ay Agosto 21, isang makasaysayang araw na humihiling—hindi, nag-uutos—na gunitain sa paraang malapit sa kamalayang Pilipino. Ano pa ang mas malapit sa kamalayang Pilipino kundi wikang Pilipino? Kahit na pang-text lang ang alam kong Pilipino.
Hindi mahirap hanapin ang paksa para dyan. Iisa ang tampok na elemento sa Agosto 21, isang elemento na tampok din ngayon sa pagkawala. Yan ang katapangan.
Matapang tayo noon, duwag tayo ngayon.
Katapangan ang buod ng mga katagang, “Hindi ka nag-iisa.” Yan ang mga katagang umalingawngaw sa buong bayan matapos pagbabarilin si Ninoy Aquino sa airport noong Agosto 21, 1983. Sa buong panahon ng pagkaburol n’ya, at lalong-lalo na sa pagdala sa kanya sa huling hantungan, yan ang madasaling binubulong, o galit na sinisigaw, ng taongbayan: “Hindi ka nag-iisa.”
Ano nga ba ang ibig sabihin ng “Hindi ka nag-iisa?”
Simple lang. Hindi ka nag-iisa dahil, kagaya mo, handa rin kaming magsakripisyo para sa bayan. Kagaya mo, handa rin kaming kumilos para sa bayan. Kagaya mo, handa rin kaming mamatay para sa bayan.
Mga katagang sinabi, o pinahiwatig, natin noon hindi lang kay Ninoy kundi sa lahat ng nagbuwis ng buhay sa panahon ng kadiliman—marami sa kanila ay nasa Wall of Remembrance ng Bantayog ng mga Bayani ngayon. ’Yan din ang isa pang kahulugan ng “Hindi ka nag-iisa.” Hindi lang si Ninoy ang nagbuwis ng buhay para sa bayan noong panahong ’yon, marami pa.
Sino na lang ang nagsasabi ng “Hindi ka nag-iisa” ngayon? O sino na lang ang nagsasabi n’yan ngayon na me gano’ng kahulugan? Dahil pag naririnig ko ang “Hindi ka nag-iisa” ngayon, ang dating sa ’kin ay parang death wish na lang ng Pinoy. Tipong: “O, sige, isali n’yo na rin ako sa kabaong. Tama na, sobra na, ayoko na. Suko na ini. ”
Paano tayo umabot sa gano’n? Paano tayo nawalan ng katapangan? O diretsuhin na natin, paano tayo naduwag?
Gusto ko sanang sabihing nabakla na siguro tayo, pero di lang sa magagalit sa akin ang mga kaibigan kong bakla kundi marami akong kilalang bakla na matapang. Nangunguna na d’yan si Lino Brocka na sa tindi ng galit sa mga kahibangan noon ni Manoling Morato ay sinigawan ng “Bakla!” Iilan lang ang kakilala kong makakatapat kay Brocka sa katapangan.
Ang nakikita na lang nating katapangan ngayon, at talaga namang laganap na, ay katapangan ng apog. Ang katapangangang yon ay wala ring pinipiling kampon, babae, lalaki o bakla. Equal opportunity, ika nga. Tapang ng apog ang kumikitil sa bayan, tapang ng apog ang pumapatay sa bayan. Tingnan mo ang mga nasa poder ngayon at tanong mo sa sarili kung may makikita ka ring katapat nila sa ganyang katapangan.
Pero yo’ng totoong katapangan, nasaan na?
Angal tayo ng angal, wala naman tayong ginagawa para tigilan ang kawalanghiyaan. Angal tayo ng angal, hindi naman tayo kumikilos para paayusin ang buhay.
Sino’ng inaasahan nating gagawa niyan? Ang Diyos, sa pamagitan ng pagbigay ng lupus o sakit ng tiyan sa pagkabondat sa mga taong bwisit sa buhay natin? Ang Amerika, na nagpapanggap na tagapagtanggol ng demokrasya sa buong mundo pero ayos lang na masikil ang kalayaan sa bansa ni Una? O “sila na lang,” ang ating mga kapitbahay na lang, ang ating mga tagapagtanggol na lang, dahil tayo ay me pamilya, dahil tayo ay kailangang maghanap-buhay, dahil tayo ay sobrang busy.
Sino ba ang walang pamilya? Kaya ka nga kumikilos ay para masilayan ng mga anak mo ang isang lipunang may liwanag at katarungan. Sino ba ang di kailangang maghanap-buhay? Kaya ka nga naghahanap ng buhay para di mo matagpuan ang patay—na pwedeng maging literal balang araw sa bangkay ng anak mo na lulutang-lutang sa ilog dahil ginawa n’ya ang di mo ginawa, ang di mo nagawa, ang di mo magawa. Dahil takot ka. Dahil busy ka.
Nakanino ba ang kapangyarihang hintuin ang katiwalian? Nakanino ba ang kapangyarihang hintuin ang pagbansot sa bayan? Di ba nasa atin? Di ba pag nagagalit tayo ay napipigilan nating bumili ng mamahaling jet ang mumurahing tao? Di pa kumikilos tayo ay napipigilan natin isulong ang Cha-cha ng mga taong di naman marunong sumayaw? Di ba pag pinapakita natin ang ating kapangyarihan ay napapatalsik natin ang mga taong kapit-tuko sa kapangyarihan?
Me mga nagsasabi na hindi naman tayo nawalan ng tapang, nawalan lang tayo ng paki. Gano’n din ’yon. Kaduwagan din yon. O higit pa ro’n. Dahil ngayon hindi ka lang takot mamatay, takot ka pang mabuhay.
Bukas, maraming mga pagtitipon-tipon sa paggunita ng makasaysayang Agosto 21. Isa na dyan ay ang prayer rally sa Ninoy statue sa Ayala na gaganapin sa ika-3:00 ng hapon hanggang gabi. Na ang hiling ng mga organizers ay kung maaari ay magsuot ng dilaw ang mga tao para ipakita ang pakikiramay, pagpupugay, at pakikiisa kay Cory. Hanep din tayong Pinoy ano: Dilaw ang kulay ng kaduwagan sa ibang bansa, dilaw ang kulay ng katapangan sa ating bansa.
Pwede kang sumama rito at sumigaw ng “Tama na, sobra na, palitan na” para sa kinabukasan ng mga anak mo. Pwede kang sumama rito para magsabi kay Inang Bayan, “Hindi ka nag-iisa,” handa rin kaming mamatay nang dahil sa ’yo, at higit na handang mabuhay nang para sa yo. Pwede kang sumama rito para ipakita na hindi pa nawawala ang katapangan sa bayan ko, binihag ka, ang dugo ng mga bayani ay nananalaytay sa mga ugat mo.
O pwede kang huwag sumama rito dahil ang bukang-bibig mo ngayon ay hindi na “Hindi ka nag-iisa” kundi “Bahala ka sa buhay mo.” Pwede kang huwag sumama rito dahil marami ka pang mahalagang gagawin, kagaya nang manuod ng “G.I Joe.” Pwede kang huwag sumama rito dahil mas okay sa yo ang maging patay kahit buhay pa kesa maging buhay kahit patay na. Pero kung gano’n:
Mag-isa ka.
‘Teyktu’
By Conrado de Quiros
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 01:05:00 08/20/2009
Maraming nag-text sa akin matapos mabasa ’yung kolum ko noong Lunes, “Ser, isa pa nga.”
Bakit nga hindi? Bitin nga ang isa, parang beer. Agosto pa rin naman, at buwan pa rin ng Wika. At bukas ay Agosto 21, isang makasaysayang araw na humihiling—hindi, nag-uutos—na gunitain sa paraang malapit sa kamalayang Pilipino. Ano pa ang mas malapit sa kamalayang Pilipino kundi wikang Pilipino? Kahit na pang-text lang ang alam kong Pilipino.
Hindi mahirap hanapin ang paksa para dyan. Iisa ang tampok na elemento sa Agosto 21, isang elemento na tampok din ngayon sa pagkawala. Yan ang katapangan.
Matapang tayo noon, duwag tayo ngayon.
Katapangan ang buod ng mga katagang, “Hindi ka nag-iisa.” Yan ang mga katagang umalingawngaw sa buong bayan matapos pagbabarilin si Ninoy Aquino sa airport noong Agosto 21, 1983. Sa buong panahon ng pagkaburol n’ya, at lalong-lalo na sa pagdala sa kanya sa huling hantungan, yan ang madasaling binubulong, o galit na sinisigaw, ng taongbayan: “Hindi ka nag-iisa.”
Ano nga ba ang ibig sabihin ng “Hindi ka nag-iisa?”
Simple lang. Hindi ka nag-iisa dahil, kagaya mo, handa rin kaming magsakripisyo para sa bayan. Kagaya mo, handa rin kaming kumilos para sa bayan. Kagaya mo, handa rin kaming mamatay para sa bayan.
Mga katagang sinabi, o pinahiwatig, natin noon hindi lang kay Ninoy kundi sa lahat ng nagbuwis ng buhay sa panahon ng kadiliman—marami sa kanila ay nasa Wall of Remembrance ng Bantayog ng mga Bayani ngayon. ’Yan din ang isa pang kahulugan ng “Hindi ka nag-iisa.” Hindi lang si Ninoy ang nagbuwis ng buhay para sa bayan noong panahong ’yon, marami pa.
Sino na lang ang nagsasabi ng “Hindi ka nag-iisa” ngayon? O sino na lang ang nagsasabi n’yan ngayon na me gano’ng kahulugan? Dahil pag naririnig ko ang “Hindi ka nag-iisa” ngayon, ang dating sa ’kin ay parang death wish na lang ng Pinoy. Tipong: “O, sige, isali n’yo na rin ako sa kabaong. Tama na, sobra na, ayoko na. Suko na ini. ”
Paano tayo umabot sa gano’n? Paano tayo nawalan ng katapangan? O diretsuhin na natin, paano tayo naduwag?
Gusto ko sanang sabihing nabakla na siguro tayo, pero di lang sa magagalit sa akin ang mga kaibigan kong bakla kundi marami akong kilalang bakla na matapang. Nangunguna na d’yan si Lino Brocka na sa tindi ng galit sa mga kahibangan noon ni Manoling Morato ay sinigawan ng “Bakla!” Iilan lang ang kakilala kong makakatapat kay Brocka sa katapangan.
Ang nakikita na lang nating katapangan ngayon, at talaga namang laganap na, ay katapangan ng apog. Ang katapangangang yon ay wala ring pinipiling kampon, babae, lalaki o bakla. Equal opportunity, ika nga. Tapang ng apog ang kumikitil sa bayan, tapang ng apog ang pumapatay sa bayan. Tingnan mo ang mga nasa poder ngayon at tanong mo sa sarili kung may makikita ka ring katapat nila sa ganyang katapangan.
Pero yo’ng totoong katapangan, nasaan na?
Angal tayo ng angal, wala naman tayong ginagawa para tigilan ang kawalanghiyaan. Angal tayo ng angal, hindi naman tayo kumikilos para paayusin ang buhay.
Sino’ng inaasahan nating gagawa niyan? Ang Diyos, sa pamagitan ng pagbigay ng lupus o sakit ng tiyan sa pagkabondat sa mga taong bwisit sa buhay natin? Ang Amerika, na nagpapanggap na tagapagtanggol ng demokrasya sa buong mundo pero ayos lang na masikil ang kalayaan sa bansa ni Una? O “sila na lang,” ang ating mga kapitbahay na lang, ang ating mga tagapagtanggol na lang, dahil tayo ay me pamilya, dahil tayo ay kailangang maghanap-buhay, dahil tayo ay sobrang busy.
Sino ba ang walang pamilya? Kaya ka nga kumikilos ay para masilayan ng mga anak mo ang isang lipunang may liwanag at katarungan. Sino ba ang di kailangang maghanap-buhay? Kaya ka nga naghahanap ng buhay para di mo matagpuan ang patay—na pwedeng maging literal balang araw sa bangkay ng anak mo na lulutang-lutang sa ilog dahil ginawa n’ya ang di mo ginawa, ang di mo nagawa, ang di mo magawa. Dahil takot ka. Dahil busy ka.
Nakanino ba ang kapangyarihang hintuin ang katiwalian? Nakanino ba ang kapangyarihang hintuin ang pagbansot sa bayan? Di ba nasa atin? Di ba pag nagagalit tayo ay napipigilan nating bumili ng mamahaling jet ang mumurahing tao? Di pa kumikilos tayo ay napipigilan natin isulong ang Cha-cha ng mga taong di naman marunong sumayaw? Di ba pag pinapakita natin ang ating kapangyarihan ay napapatalsik natin ang mga taong kapit-tuko sa kapangyarihan?
Me mga nagsasabi na hindi naman tayo nawalan ng tapang, nawalan lang tayo ng paki. Gano’n din ’yon. Kaduwagan din yon. O higit pa ro’n. Dahil ngayon hindi ka lang takot mamatay, takot ka pang mabuhay.
Bukas, maraming mga pagtitipon-tipon sa paggunita ng makasaysayang Agosto 21. Isa na dyan ay ang prayer rally sa Ninoy statue sa Ayala na gaganapin sa ika-3:00 ng hapon hanggang gabi. Na ang hiling ng mga organizers ay kung maaari ay magsuot ng dilaw ang mga tao para ipakita ang pakikiramay, pagpupugay, at pakikiisa kay Cory. Hanep din tayong Pinoy ano: Dilaw ang kulay ng kaduwagan sa ibang bansa, dilaw ang kulay ng katapangan sa ating bansa.
Pwede kang sumama rito at sumigaw ng “Tama na, sobra na, palitan na” para sa kinabukasan ng mga anak mo. Pwede kang sumama rito para magsabi kay Inang Bayan, “Hindi ka nag-iisa,” handa rin kaming mamatay nang dahil sa ’yo, at higit na handang mabuhay nang para sa yo. Pwede kang sumama rito para ipakita na hindi pa nawawala ang katapangan sa bayan ko, binihag ka, ang dugo ng mga bayani ay nananalaytay sa mga ugat mo.
O pwede kang huwag sumama rito dahil ang bukang-bibig mo ngayon ay hindi na “Hindi ka nag-iisa” kundi “Bahala ka sa buhay mo.” Pwede kang huwag sumama rito dahil marami ka pang mahalagang gagawin, kagaya nang manuod ng “G.I Joe.” Pwede kang huwag sumama rito dahil mas okay sa yo ang maging patay kahit buhay pa kesa maging buhay kahit patay na. Pero kung gano’n:
Mag-isa ka.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Risks
Read this with Never Say Never on the background (just for kicks)
You are protected. But if you don’t take risks, God will retreat and become only a subject of philosophical speculation. - Coelho's quote of the week
Like many other days, I discussed about love and risks yesterday with a friend. I told her that I think I've already had a fair dose of love in my life that whatever comes would just be a product of luck. And like other people, she told me that I was just afraid.
I never really see my numbness as fear. Maybe I'm a good liar or maybe just maybe, I am really a robot.
But maybe, turning away from love and pretending to be busy is a fear, I might have brainwashed myself so effectively.
As an example, I told her I never really felt alive as a person when I left something recently. It was like the biggest victory I've done and I felt so sure but unsure at the same time. I remember crying because I cannot explain how I feel and that the only sure thing I know I have to do is to just give it up.
Maybe that's how we should really live, just feeling and knowing that at the end of the day, you'll be fine despite the uncertainty. I think if God had to advise us if we are trapped in a ravine with a murderer in front of us and the deep uncertainty at the back...He'll tell us to jump rather than face death and not knowing what's really out there.
(I might not be making any sense, I still have that killer headache...darn)
Thank You Lord for teaching me the true meaning of risk...and to Mr. Coelho too. I'm gonna try so hard to apply it in my lovelife, maybe just maybe I might need more experience.haha
The Fray - Never Say Never Acoustic Performance
You are protected. But if you don’t take risks, God will retreat and become only a subject of philosophical speculation. - Coelho's quote of the week
Like many other days, I discussed about love and risks yesterday with a friend. I told her that I think I've already had a fair dose of love in my life that whatever comes would just be a product of luck. And like other people, she told me that I was just afraid.
I never really see my numbness as fear. Maybe I'm a good liar or maybe just maybe, I am really a robot.
But maybe, turning away from love and pretending to be busy is a fear, I might have brainwashed myself so effectively.
As an example, I told her I never really felt alive as a person when I left something recently. It was like the biggest victory I've done and I felt so sure but unsure at the same time. I remember crying because I cannot explain how I feel and that the only sure thing I know I have to do is to just give it up.
Maybe that's how we should really live, just feeling and knowing that at the end of the day, you'll be fine despite the uncertainty. I think if God had to advise us if we are trapped in a ravine with a murderer in front of us and the deep uncertainty at the back...He'll tell us to jump rather than face death and not knowing what's really out there.
(I might not be making any sense, I still have that killer headache...darn)
Thank You Lord for teaching me the true meaning of risk...and to Mr. Coelho too. I'm gonna try so hard to apply it in my lovelife, maybe just maybe I might need more experience.haha
The Fray - Never Say Never Acoustic Performance
Thursday, August 13, 2009
and it was all yellow
my dad made his own trellis of yellow bells in a then garage space in our house.
And now it's all yellow. And green.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
i think
So we have several issues now that's been the non-stop topic of everyone and every media outfit.
#1 Willie's reaction to sharing the TV screen with Cory's transfer to Manila Cathedral
I think he made some sense, it's obviously way out of line to show a funeral while showing a game show too. That is the fault of the TV station (whoever should be responsible), the point is, did he really have to be so rude in saying it?
I think that's the problem, people won't react and push for his removal if he said it in a much civilized way and not like he owns the company and runs everything (and even the Aquinos agreed to this despite the acceptance of his apology).
The thing is Mr. Revillame, no matter how many you helped, how much money you rake in for ABS, it all comes down to how well-mannered you are as a person and this isn't the first time you had a violation for such.
Everything's already perfect except that part.
#2 GMA and her entourage's lavish New York dinner
the bill:
There's really no problem with splurging but they should have been more discreet.
I was also pissed off by one of GMA's spokesman who told the evening news last night that
"Alangan namang pakainin natin sa isang hotdog stand anf presidente?"
Mr. Spokesman...why the freaking hell not?
wala sa lugar
and if they're thinking enough
eating at a hotdog stand would have been a good publicity for GMA now, dont you think?
#1 Willie's reaction to sharing the TV screen with Cory's transfer to Manila Cathedral
I think he made some sense, it's obviously way out of line to show a funeral while showing a game show too. That is the fault of the TV station (whoever should be responsible), the point is, did he really have to be so rude in saying it?
I think that's the problem, people won't react and push for his removal if he said it in a much civilized way and not like he owns the company and runs everything (and even the Aquinos agreed to this despite the acceptance of his apology).
The thing is Mr. Revillame, no matter how many you helped, how much money you rake in for ABS, it all comes down to how well-mannered you are as a person and this isn't the first time you had a violation for such.
Everything's already perfect except that part.
#2 GMA and her entourage's lavish New York dinner
the bill:
There's really no problem with splurging but they should have been more discreet.
I was also pissed off by one of GMA's spokesman who told the evening news last night that
"Alangan namang pakainin natin sa isang hotdog stand anf presidente?"
Mr. Spokesman...why the freaking hell not?
wala sa lugar
and if they're thinking enough
eating at a hotdog stand would have been a good publicity for GMA now, dont you think?
walk on...
We're standing on a tiny ledge
Before this goes over the edge
Gonna use my heart and not my head
And try to open up your eyes
This is a relationship suicide
- Talk You Down by The Script
Before this goes over the edge
Gonna use my heart and not my head
And try to open up your eyes
This is a relationship suicide
- Talk You Down by The Script
Monday, August 10, 2009
Italian afternoon
had an urge to mess up in the kitchen and ended up with:
Bambi mini pizza - chorizo and meat flavor (just heat in oven toaster)
pesto toast
ingredients
olive oil
pesto
butter
bread
spread olive oil, pesto and butter
heat in oven toaster
Fussili noodles
Prego Italian sauce (bottled)
Maggi Magic Sarap
tuna
butter
cheese
cook noodles to desired softness. add 1/2 of maggi magic sarap pack and salt. set aside and drain plus spread with butter.
cook Prego and tuna add noodles. stir. add the rest of maggi magic sarap mix.
spread cheese on top.
pair up with iced tea or ice cold soda. :D
Thanks to my sous chef manang Corcing as well. :D
Bambi mini pizza - chorizo and meat flavor (just heat in oven toaster)
pesto toast
ingredients
olive oil
pesto
butter
bread
spread olive oil, pesto and butter
heat in oven toaster
Fussili noodles
Prego Italian sauce (bottled)
Maggi Magic Sarap
tuna
butter
cheese
cook noodles to desired softness. add 1/2 of maggi magic sarap pack and salt. set aside and drain plus spread with butter.
cook Prego and tuna add noodles. stir. add the rest of maggi magic sarap mix.
spread cheese on top.
pair up with iced tea or ice cold soda. :D
Thanks to my sous chef manang Corcing as well. :D
giddy morning = pancake oa-ness
ingredients
pancake
maple syrup
chocolate cake
This treat is obviously a no-brainer...just arrange them all together... :D
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Strawberry Swing
hand it to one of my fave band to impress me every time.
Strawberry Swing - Coldplay
They were sitting
They were sitting on the strawberry swing
Every moment was so precious
They were sitting
They were talking under strawberry swing
Everybody was for fighting
Wouldn't wanna waste a thing
Cold, cold water bring me round
Now my feet won't touch the ground
Cold, cold water what ya say?
When it's such…
It's such a perfect day
It's such a perfect day
I remember
We were walking up to strawberry swing
I can't wait until the morning
Wouldn't wanna change a thing
People moving all the time
Inside a perfectly straight line
Don't you wanna curve away?
When it's such…
It's such a perfect day
It's such a perfect day
Now the sky could be blue
I don't mind
Without you it's a waste of time
Could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time
Could be blue,
Could be grey
Without you I’m just miles away
Could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time
Strawberry Swing - Coldplay
They were sitting
They were sitting on the strawberry swing
Every moment was so precious
They were sitting
They were talking under strawberry swing
Everybody was for fighting
Wouldn't wanna waste a thing
Cold, cold water bring me round
Now my feet won't touch the ground
Cold, cold water what ya say?
When it's such…
It's such a perfect day
It's such a perfect day
I remember
We were walking up to strawberry swing
I can't wait until the morning
Wouldn't wanna change a thing
People moving all the time
Inside a perfectly straight line
Don't you wanna curve away?
When it's such…
It's such a perfect day
It's such a perfect day
Now the sky could be blue
I don't mind
Without you it's a waste of time
Could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time
Could be blue,
Could be grey
Without you I’m just miles away
Could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time
F.R.I.E.N.D.S.
friends are friends...they are stubborn especially if you're in the wrong path. haha
haay...
haay...
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Thank You
12am of August 3, my mom and I went to La Salle Greenhills. We were greeted by two snake-like lines. Everyone's waiting but not really upset by the long line. The atmosphere was light. We saw teenagers, employees, a kid with a "We Love You Cory" band on her head, Toni Rose (Rosa Rosal's daughter) gamely lining with the crowd, people wearing yellow shirts smelling like newly printed silkscreened shirts.
We entered La Salle Greenhills around 2am, greeted by tons of flowers of sympathy and by ushers carrying food (puto pao).
It started to rain when we got to the top of the gym. But the rain didn't feel all that bad or probably for some it didn't really matter because at that moment everyone's mourning.
Tita Cory looked peaceful, very white.She looked different probably due to the effect of her sickness and her glasses off. She was wearing a very yellow dress. The moment was brief but full of respect. I cannot think of any other word to describe and feel at the moment. It was all about respect for a woman who gave her life doing every good thing she can for the country. She could have chosen the quiet life shying away from the dirty politics. It was easy for her to choose that path, but she didn't and for that we owe her a whole lot.
Her house is a modest one in Quezon City, in a street where everyone can pass by --- which speaks of her humbleness. As a child, its always a treat attending mass with her presence in the church in Times St., a thing she does like any other normal people would do.
It's not surprising how people can endure 2-8 hours of lining up just to see her. It was not a hard task to pay respect to a woman like that.
Truly, everyone can fall for her more than one time as read by Ninoy's poem beautifully sung by Jose Mari Chan. We loved her when she sacrificed a peaceful family life, we loved her for being strong as a president, for still fighting for the right things and leading us, and now until death we still love her for everything she has done and what she is continuously changing.
Now we know Filipinos haven't succumbed to apathy. That we would still flood the streets not only by anger but also to show our great respect for someone who sacrificed a lot for the country. Thank You Tita Cory, may your spirit live on and change all of us for the better :D
Corazon Cojuangco Aquino (1933 - 2009)
We entered La Salle Greenhills around 2am, greeted by tons of flowers of sympathy and by ushers carrying food (puto pao).
It started to rain when we got to the top of the gym. But the rain didn't feel all that bad or probably for some it didn't really matter because at that moment everyone's mourning.
Tita Cory looked peaceful, very white.She looked different probably due to the effect of her sickness and her glasses off. She was wearing a very yellow dress. The moment was brief but full of respect. I cannot think of any other word to describe and feel at the moment. It was all about respect for a woman who gave her life doing every good thing she can for the country. She could have chosen the quiet life shying away from the dirty politics. It was easy for her to choose that path, but she didn't and for that we owe her a whole lot.
Her house is a modest one in Quezon City, in a street where everyone can pass by --- which speaks of her humbleness. As a child, its always a treat attending mass with her presence in the church in Times St., a thing she does like any other normal people would do.
It's not surprising how people can endure 2-8 hours of lining up just to see her. It was not a hard task to pay respect to a woman like that.
Truly, everyone can fall for her more than one time as read by Ninoy's poem beautifully sung by Jose Mari Chan. We loved her when she sacrificed a peaceful family life, we loved her for being strong as a president, for still fighting for the right things and leading us, and now until death we still love her for everything she has done and what she is continuously changing.
Now we know Filipinos haven't succumbed to apathy. That we would still flood the streets not only by anger but also to show our great respect for someone who sacrificed a lot for the country. Thank You Tita Cory, may your spirit live on and change all of us for the better :D
Corazon Cojuangco Aquino (1933 - 2009)
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Grace Ramos -- Gran Paradiso
"It's a hot evening for July," you said with that innocent and playful grin of yours that steals me. We sat on the park bench we usually just pass by. Having been asked to take that walk was surprising since you rarely ask me to do anything with you. It was, yes, a major panic moment for me, but what else can a girl do other than yield?
The usual street lights were off already since it was past midnight when we got there. Although, the sky was lucid enough for me to see every blink of those wide, glassy eyes and every stunningly awkward smile you let out when your hands accidentally touch mine.
You switched off your phone which is weird because you never do that. Feeling obliged, I followed your lead. "I like the park better at night. It's easier to talk to you this way. I don't have to compete with anything or anyone for your attention," I said, although regretting the last line.
I knew better than to say that. It was no competition. I wasn't in a race, not with anyone, not for you. Though you never said or did anything to make me at ease with those awkward moments, somehow I felt I was where I ought to be. That if I was in a race, I would be ahead of the pack.
But just like the classic you, you just sat there without saying a word for some five minutes. Five fucking long minutes that I wished would vanish like the sun at night. Then, with a sudden gush of blood in my head, you rested your cheek on my shoulder.
It was, yet again, another major panic moment because for me, the person I was sitting beside to would go as far as possible from me, eluding my every step like I was the mother of all sins.
Sometimes, I wonder how your hair would smell like when I wake up next to you one morning or how perfectly our hands would fit together if you'd only have the desire to hold mine. But I would regain my sanity and realize you're my Gran Paradiso that I still need to climb.
"If I could only capture this event, put it in a box and throw away the key," I thought to myself. You were there, with me, alone. At that moment, when I could almost breathe the scent of your air, I wish you'd just indulge me, or better yet, indulge in me.
You were there for five minutes, with me, in the same park bench we usually just pass by. It was the shortest five minutes of my entire life. And like how spontaneous your leaning was, so was your rising up. I almost felt the gentle dent in your cheek that I could only kiss in my dreams, but it was too fast, it was too fleeting.
You finally broke the silence. As magical as your mere presence in a room, you triumphantly conquered me with a bold declaration, "I am finally taking that leap you suggested." My fragile bones could only shiver in anticipation but only to some point as you continued, "She's back."
Could I just drown in that moss-covered lake five steps away? I wanted to run to the car, start the engine and speed away. That was one of those great escapes I see in action movies, except that I don't have a car, and it was not just a movie.
Suddenly, I was wasted on climbing my Gran Paradiso. I could barely feel anything in my legs. "Is this what a stroke would feel like?" Might as well be one as the last two words I heard were the death of me.
What else could girl do? Sit still? Run away? Drifting to seclusion could be the best option, but the agenda in the docket were shaking your hand, faintly kissing one cheek and politely saying goodnight.
Like your typical average girl, I smiled and said, "You do what you have to do. For now, it's way past my bedtime."
©Grace Ramos
(08/04/09)
The usual street lights were off already since it was past midnight when we got there. Although, the sky was lucid enough for me to see every blink of those wide, glassy eyes and every stunningly awkward smile you let out when your hands accidentally touch mine.
You switched off your phone which is weird because you never do that. Feeling obliged, I followed your lead. "I like the park better at night. It's easier to talk to you this way. I don't have to compete with anything or anyone for your attention," I said, although regretting the last line.
I knew better than to say that. It was no competition. I wasn't in a race, not with anyone, not for you. Though you never said or did anything to make me at ease with those awkward moments, somehow I felt I was where I ought to be. That if I was in a race, I would be ahead of the pack.
But just like the classic you, you just sat there without saying a word for some five minutes. Five fucking long minutes that I wished would vanish like the sun at night. Then, with a sudden gush of blood in my head, you rested your cheek on my shoulder.
It was, yet again, another major panic moment because for me, the person I was sitting beside to would go as far as possible from me, eluding my every step like I was the mother of all sins.
Sometimes, I wonder how your hair would smell like when I wake up next to you one morning or how perfectly our hands would fit together if you'd only have the desire to hold mine. But I would regain my sanity and realize you're my Gran Paradiso that I still need to climb.
"If I could only capture this event, put it in a box and throw away the key," I thought to myself. You were there, with me, alone. At that moment, when I could almost breathe the scent of your air, I wish you'd just indulge me, or better yet, indulge in me.
You were there for five minutes, with me, in the same park bench we usually just pass by. It was the shortest five minutes of my entire life. And like how spontaneous your leaning was, so was your rising up. I almost felt the gentle dent in your cheek that I could only kiss in my dreams, but it was too fast, it was too fleeting.
You finally broke the silence. As magical as your mere presence in a room, you triumphantly conquered me with a bold declaration, "I am finally taking that leap you suggested." My fragile bones could only shiver in anticipation but only to some point as you continued, "She's back."
Could I just drown in that moss-covered lake five steps away? I wanted to run to the car, start the engine and speed away. That was one of those great escapes I see in action movies, except that I don't have a car, and it was not just a movie.
Suddenly, I was wasted on climbing my Gran Paradiso. I could barely feel anything in my legs. "Is this what a stroke would feel like?" Might as well be one as the last two words I heard were the death of me.
What else could girl do? Sit still? Run away? Drifting to seclusion could be the best option, but the agenda in the docket were shaking your hand, faintly kissing one cheek and politely saying goodnight.
Like your typical average girl, I smiled and said, "You do what you have to do. For now, it's way past my bedtime."
©Grace Ramos
(08/04/09)
Monday, August 3, 2009
Malayo na
Nalulungkot sa pag alis
Hindi na tayo tulad ng dati
Napupuno ka ng pait
Hindi na tayo tulad ng dati
I've been battling with my past, present and future now. At first I thought I'll enjoy this feeling...but I feel guilty after a while...it took a really good friend to wake me up and realize that life is repeating itself... and I can't let things happen again the way it did. I'm much smarter now, I'm hoping. And one thing I learned, I must really be sure before I go and plunge once again.
And now, my attitude and my decision confuses me, hurts me...and I dont want to cause this kind of hurt to anyone and myself. The last thing I wanna do right now is hurt, although I think I'm already doing it.
here we go again...Lord, help me do the right thing. Help me.
on other matters...
our old VW Combi is back...
that car grew up with me and brought me fond memories. Its a second home everytime we go to the mall or out of town. Its a familiar thing I wanna remember and Im thanking God that He gave me another chance. Our whole family's psyched up to restore it to its old glory.
Missing it so much, I helped my dad wash it when it arrived. The whole process caused me bodyaches but what the heck...I'll post developments as things go along. :D We are so psyched. :D
I also hope this jumpstarts my dream to start a vintage car collection. :D
Concluding the Twilight Saga and reading Meyer's last book Breaking Dawn. I cant wait for New Moon. haha...naadik.
Hindi na tayo tulad ng dati
Napupuno ka ng pait
Hindi na tayo tulad ng dati
I've been battling with my past, present and future now. At first I thought I'll enjoy this feeling...but I feel guilty after a while...it took a really good friend to wake me up and realize that life is repeating itself... and I can't let things happen again the way it did. I'm much smarter now, I'm hoping. And one thing I learned, I must really be sure before I go and plunge once again.
And now, my attitude and my decision confuses me, hurts me...and I dont want to cause this kind of hurt to anyone and myself. The last thing I wanna do right now is hurt, although I think I'm already doing it.
here we go again...Lord, help me do the right thing. Help me.
on other matters...
our old VW Combi is back...
that car grew up with me and brought me fond memories. Its a second home everytime we go to the mall or out of town. Its a familiar thing I wanna remember and Im thanking God that He gave me another chance. Our whole family's psyched up to restore it to its old glory.
Missing it so much, I helped my dad wash it when it arrived. The whole process caused me bodyaches but what the heck...I'll post developments as things go along. :D We are so psyched. :D
I also hope this jumpstarts my dream to start a vintage car collection. :D
Concluding the Twilight Saga and reading Meyer's last book Breaking Dawn. I cant wait for New Moon. haha...naadik.
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