Exit from the Labyrinth

I'm greeted by the remainders of the night, 

cold rain and fine drizzle, 

misting the sleepy greens,

all made a nostalgic and quaint sight. 

warm collection of the last night's dreams.

my consciousness refuse to forget,

the moments painted in surreal,

all that happened, the persons i met.

the dream i cease to conceal.

but the night was thawed

by the pierce of the needles,

and all its lulling fraud

that were spoken in riddles.

the clowns came crying,

down the ambiguous carnival.

face paints slowly melting,

revealing nightmare: cold and feral.

run back to the threshold,

i was chased by time and space.

leaving each chapters unfold,

alas, i found my way out of this maze.

Death of Pygmalion

your blood is my poison;

in my veins it'll flow.

we are a perfect liaison;

we're chiseled in a cameo.

you're my divine Shiva,

i am carried by your womb.

bearer of the panacea;

gravedigger of my tomb.

in the middle of my hollow;

you're death stands alone.

imbibe my breath to shallow;

kiss me and i'll turn into stone.

to the night you spoken;

with the rhythms of your deceit.

till my soul turn a sunken;

my lips lay frail on your feet.

rest my soul you sirene;

lull me, ruin my fragile ship.

silhouette hiding behind curtain;

cease your repeated script.

take me to your solace,

where eyes never close,

when all are nights no days,

and to death we shall toss.

"Speechless" part 1

   every one were on high-spirits ,the expected gaiety they'll feel during near semester breaks. in every corners you could see students, under the Santol tree beside the library were group of students practicing their lines for their plays which, on some subjects like english and literature, are considered as final exams. some were  filled with enthusiast and  others with exhaustion as they swayed their bodies, swung their hands, moved their feet and delivered the lines by heart or by nose. others i saw brooding over reading materials on some silent nooks like the nipa hut and the benches in front of it and trying to concentrate or i say indulge themselves to what they are reading. there are also students, the confident ones, talking like they can't here each other even in a close range for they're shouting, for emphasis perhaps or just showing off how happy they are that semester break is fast approaching and that they're happy to have just passed there subjects, caring less on perfection, stranded and contended in low mediocrity. students in laptops searching on everything or just opening there face-book accounts checking out updates, delighted for a few notifications and occasional friend requests. students making there projects and thesis for the last submission. almost everyone are restless and too occupied to what they are engaged with.

   while here was i, in my highly observant mood, walking the path heading to the library, as always, to the library. walking slow so that i could take notice of the activities livening the academe.

   I'm standing on the threshold, swung open the glass door, stepped my foot forward, walked confidently towards the i.d validation machine. where i placed my i.d on the red light and let it be censored, afterward, a beep signaled indicating that my i.d was validated and i may use the library. i navigated my eyes through the expectantly crowded bodies of students sitting on every table trying to find and recognize some vaguely familiar faces. every table consisted of not less than five people. some chatting and discussing in unmodulated voices that's too loud inapt for the place. some were seriously doing paper works. there was no vacant sit available. but though every table was occupied i would less likely do my business in the second floor. there is too much light streaming in, big and too bright fluorescent lamps, too many (noisy)students, uncomfortable sit, less private. it's a too public place. 

   the students were murmuring loud and were nonchalant to the place's rules and regulations that the librarian, stood up, get the bell from the table, placed it in the upper deck and rung it loud enough so that everyone will notice there commotion. consequently, the students lowered their voices down and the place was back to its original and appropriate silence.  

   after the feat, i hurried upstairs and walked straight to my favorite place in the library, the area where they place the books on high shelves. this is the segregated area. it's not air-conditioned so if you'll enter the place you'll be consumed by the heat, dust and the absence of air. but i care less about that. so i proceeded to the room anyway.

   i swung open the half glass door and the heat, dust, absent air, books and shelves greeted me with there welcoming look. i stood and paused in a short while, to feel them. turning left, i started walking my way to the area. it's just in the extreme left wing facing the room. ones you go there, you will find a small round table with two sits facing each other just beside the large window. outside the large window stood an old proud Narra tree spreading its leaves and branches so that only a few delicate light could stream in, swaying it's leaves in the thick and cold wind. waltzing in the hush sounds the wind and its branches and leaves are making. few leaves cascading slowly from the tree to ground where it'll be swept by the janitor or kicked and stepped on by some shoes. birds are happily cooing at each other, hopping hither and tither on each branches, occasionally tangled on some bunch of leaves. flying away and back, chirping there melodies and conducting an orchestra with the wind and the Narra tree.

    just beside the effervescent tree is an old building, maybe the same old as the tree. you could see visible signs of antiquity in the tarnished gutters where some strange weeds are dangling loose in the gutters curves, clay shingles grayed and withered and cracked by weather and time, unpainted walls were some visible cracks penciled its dirty white surface like lines in maps. there are also weeds sprawled from the ground to the walls decorating it, that weeds together with the lines of cracks made grotesque shapes when you look at it from a distance. though the building is covered with visible evidence of old age, it stood proud and noble and dignified. that it is ought to be respected by the other younger buildings and students and teachers who used and are using the accommodations and comfort that he offered and can still offer through generations.

   i watch and look at the details of everything around me. the round table, the books, the shelves, the books in the shelves, the chair where i sat, the dusty tiles, the gloomy place lighted by the soft rays from the outside, the strong wind and submissive tree and the old building. all was observed with keen and delightful almost obsessive interest. i tired and indulged myself to the pleasures of the sight that i almost forgot why i was here. then a yawn escaped from my mouth and the was question was answered. i slept.

PINCH MY NOSE!

   why does everybody likes pinching my nose??

nose squeezing!

   i wake up each morning just for my nose to be pinched by my wicked and mean sister. she always do that, like she's having great time or pleasure pinching and biting my poor but proud nose. i sometimes caught her staring at it mischievously like she's itching to SQUEEZE it! grrr!

   i really like my nose. it compliments my face and i think that it is just the proper size and shape for my small face. I'm proud to say that no one ever mocked or teased me because of it. they even say that it's so cute, and that they like to PINCH it. well, guys, thanks, but can you cease yourselves from pinching it?? hmm?

weaving stories.

the clouds are crumpled above the sky like these papers loitered carelessly on the floor. the sun, as mighty as he always do, streaming his long rays through those that can be reigned by his power. dew drops glimmers with gaiety as they flow down each leaf, tumbling and sliding on the youthful greens and withered ones. cascading down, they will be received by the warmth of the moisten land, down to its abyss, in darkness where they will give health to its roots and life to the earth.
birds are chirping on high and low notes, singing some melody unfamiliar to my ears but otherwise lovely to hear. some are on trees, hopping and walking on the branches. others are on cable wires, looking at posts and wires like some strange trees unfamiliar to their sight. singing altogether as the mild wind swayed and wafted there voices and let the surroundings be filled with it. the bobolinks made a fine morning orchestra.

septuagenarian

word of the day: SEPTUAGENARIAN ...

-

1. Being 70 years old or between the ages of 70 and 80.

2. Of or relating to a septuagenarian.

LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!

   I open my face book account. The first thing i usually do is go to my personal profile wall, check out if someone concerned and interested commented on my wall posts. next, confirm and leave some friend requests, why do i leave uninteresting friend requests? it is because i like looking at those people requesting for my friendshp. hehe. it really does me pleasure. afterward, click on the Home page and see if there is something interesting posted, it could be something worth the laugh, the smirk and the "ooows?", something that's worth commenting. last will be checking of the citizen's inhabiting and dominating the chat box, those are the people who actually logs in to face book every now and then. i think there trying to make some virtual civilizations and face book is the start of there empire. eventually, if i find nothing interesting to chat with and comment at, i log out immediately.

    But TODAY, i saw a wall update that caught or i say grab or stole my inattentive and passive attention. My very close friend "A" is in a relationship with my self-proclaimed best friend "J"!!! huuwhaaat??

my eyes bulged an inch out from its nest, widened in a full 360 degrees and locked to the revelation appeared on the screen. my mouth opened in awe, and there will be a tendency for a fly to enter if i wouldn't close it back. this was my initial reaction. i know, i know, i'm over reacting. hooo!

    OMG! i never saw it coming, well, eventually i won't cause i hadn't seen the both of them for almost two months now. oh my, this is what i get from my busy schedule. i can't even notice the supernatural things and phenomenon happening in the surrounding. heheh.

   As a roundup, i wish them all the best that the world and life can give, that there love can make. i say, in my own assessment, they are at heart perfect for each other. LOVE. LOVE. LOVE!

LUNA---the beautiful mistress.

   The best week of the month is the last quarter week. why? because it is when the full moon appears every night!    

   Yesterday was the start of the full moon's grand appearance in the sky. that is why i can hear wolfs howls from the top of there lungs and  were wolves reign (though i didn't actually seen any. hehe, except Jacob.). 

   So, there was i, in the couch beside the window where i can see a fuller and clearer view of the enchanting moon. though it's slightly covered by wisp of clouds, it rather did complement the excellent moon, the clouds served as laces thus making her more picturesque. the stars glittered brightly too, but they didn't matched the brightness and glory of the moon. the constellations of stars looked like a  frame surrounding the perfect picture inside, the moon. the stars made her more beautiful. The Yale and midnight blue dominates the color of the sky and made a perfect canvass to where the moon will settle her thrown. 

   What a lovely night...staring at her, and hopes she will also look back at me, even a glance. Sometimes it fills me with envy thinking that a lot of beings admire her like i do. i wish she's all for me, and for me alone. that her glow is for me alone, that she lives by the night because it is her desire to bless me with her warm and comfort light. but how ambitious and selfish to think that way, i should respect her and understand that she's the eyes of the blinding night, and that i should love her more.

the moon

the flower will open its lips in wonder

the crickets shall sing there hymns

the prophets and the wise will ponder

upon the beauty beyond there dreams

the fishes will jump on exaltation

the wolfs will glorify her on plateaus

every form living will desire her with affection

that the stars and sky will be jealous.

UP-TO-DATE UPDATES!

UPDATES:

UNLEASH THE FREAK IN YOU! FIGHT BOREDOM!

 1. i saw my cat napping above the fridge... i was about to get water from the fridge when i saw a cat's tail hanged as i swung open the door. So when i looked up, there, the cat in all her sophisticated physique was staring at me half squinted.

cat: "who are you?"

human: "i think i own this house, and this fridge you're sleeping.  you?"

cat: "i'm the guardian feline of this house you own and this fridge where i am sleeping. how dare you disturb my meditation?"

human: "oh, i didn't know, sorry, i'm just about to get some water actually. and then i saw you and...

cat: sshh! enough with your lame excuses!  get what you have to get! close the door! you're wasting electricity! get lost!"

human: "oh, i think i should buy another fridge so that i won't disturb you the next time i'll get cold water. it's not my intention to destroy the tranquility of your sleep."

cat: "you better buy another, now you go find your exit to this insensible dialogue, and i'll go on with my meditation."

human: "ok.. happy meditating.."

cat: "ZZzzzzzzz... "

 2. my father is venting over political issues, showbiz issues, current economic crisis and the "carinderia" where he ate this morning (they are not serving vegetable soups.)

 3.  my grandmother is narrating to our new maid, the history, the current activities, the future plans of our family and every thing else involved, as what she usually does.

4. mother brought "Marang" and "Durian" ..... weeeeh!!!

5. i'm gulping cold water from the Fit 'n Right bottle. 

6. i'm still struggling over boredom.

Boredom-stricken state of mind.

What's on my table?

   fresh milk. Skyflakes crackers. pen. mechanical pencil. papers.

What's beneath my table?

   dog. dog food. unpaired slippers. cold floor. dust. 

What's inside my room? ( aside from those mentioned above)

   lost soul. computer set. telephone. cabinet. hopeless case of  "the asymmetrical mountain of photocopied articles that nobody wanted yet they are preserved"( for sentimental purpose perhaps. i DOUBT that) 

What does my room look like?

   chaotic. catastrophic.

What's inside my human anatomy?

   growling hypothalamus (which is now satisfied by the food intake.) , healthy liver, healthy lungs and other internal organs apart from the brain, unhealthy state of mind, dysfunctional central nervous system

What does my human anatomy look like on the outside view?

   a coalition of the most diabolic forces of her nature: halitosis, hell-like hair, skin itches, stinking feet

What will i write?

   about the dog and her current state of consciousness. anarchy.

   I'm getting weaker. Boredom is rapidly contaminating my system. It'll defeat me soon. sooner than i thought. NOW! Grrrr! no! no! no... i need an antidote!.. the antidote of life...me and the whole troop of my system including the calluses won't be defeated!!! graarrr! ! !  to the glory of my body! fight boredom!!!

Why Not Write it on Paper?

   I like papers, and pens, inks, and sketchpads and pencils, and a complete set or supply of them on my table gives me delight watching.

   In the advent of fast pace technology nowadays. More often, computers and laptops are use as tools for writing, or I say, typing. You just click on keyboard buttons and everything will automatically appear on the screen. Fast isn't it? Yes, indeed it is. That's why more and more patronize these kind of tools rather than the old and ancient style, nearly be extinct( I pray not.) writing methodology--that is to literally grip the pen on your hands and flow the ink down to the paper's smooth surface. 

   Notwithstanding the boom of technological equipments for writing, I still love writing on paper. Not because I'm ancient, old and a subject for extinction, but because writing in this method gives me a more complete and light feeling after. I feel closer to my work. Their is a soul in it. It's like a piece of me was on the paper. It is a pleasing and a wonderful feeling every time I complete an essay or article on papers. It gives me pleasure to look and run my eyes on the ribbon of words afterward and my eyes glimmers as if i had them laid on a treasure chest on an island.

   I like my longhand and i like looking at it, specially if I'd written something lengthy. it's like art. The paper and the words on sentences, the sentences on paragraphs are beautiful  that it sometimes urges me to drive to the nearest wood shop and have it framed.(yeah, i like bragging. oh i love it.) 

Federer and Nadal: Fit of Laughter During Shooting

 

If there's a laugh that's contagious it would be Roger's! hahahah!  i can't get over. Rafa can't get over. when will roger get over laughing?? hahaha! this one is head over heels cute!

i love rainy mornings

I    I had a dream about a rainy morning, of gray skies and brown muddy roads. in this dream, i saw myself walked outside and spread my arms, looked up to the sky and rain drops caressing my warm cheeks, my eyes, my face. rain drops slide down from my face to my neck to my nakedness below. 

their was no one, I'm alone, and the rainy morning, though just a dream, is all for myself. 

then suddenly i woke up, a gravity pulled me back to reality. now, i am staring outside, noticing the details. dew drops were tumbling down leaves, and gray clouds lazily paving way for the bright sun. their was an evidence of rain. rain dripped that morning. rain came by for me that morning. 

i love rain. and coffee. and the cozy room.

and the quote of the day is....

"Their is no mind stranger than that of someone who is deeply in love with art."

-Cyrell Alingasa

the room. the universe. and the bored

    The mighty sun is up and ready to broil the laborers tanned skin, the sky is in its usual blue, whisked by flimsy webs of milk like clouds. Green of different shades, olive green, mint green, dark green, dominates the color of the surrounding for there are a lot of trees and plants in our village. the road is muddy for it rained last night almost every night now that cold months are approaching. thus, it never slip my ears to hear complains escaping from the passers mouth about when will the accountable for road improvements will take notice on the battered street. 

    Children , in assorted checkered uniforms, are gaily clasping hands together while humming some familiar noon time variety show songs. it started as a hum first and then it'll get louder and louder until the hum will morph into singing the lyrics, then everyone wants there voices to be noticed and so they'll sing a bit louder than the others and they'll burst into a wrongly conducted orchestra or choir perhaps, and everything, from the hum will break into cacophonous farrago of voices and yells and shouts and screams and giggles and laughter! they will all end up laughing and running going to the school rooms and who get to first hug or touch the confused teacher, for she don't know why her gaiety little students are running like that of someone been chased by a bunch of dogs, will be awarded as the fastest runner and that has the rights to brag and pride in class.

      not only the children are in a vigorous mood but also the grown-ups, semi grow-up, just grown up, hates to be grown-up, pretending to be grown-ups are feeling the warmth of life and thus, heading on there respective roads and paths and vocations and works, with the contentment of the soul, vigor of the sun and hopes and dreams. they all willed to live and so they set out to fulfill and satisfy, enjoy and content the callings of the day and there duties.

      as when every one else are living there lives ahead, here i am in my room, my space where i can enjoy life in the leeway of the carnation pink walls and jade curtains hanged in rectangular wooden windows. in my space, floored by olive green tiles that coolness sneaks up in your muscles if you are not to wear any coverings on your soles, here in my room, almost claustrophobic room, for my brother's nursing stuffs, books and articles and the likes, were messily piled and mounted up on a very asymmetrical disordered manner. it is here on this single space, miserably left by time and trend, inhabited by friendly neighborhood spiders, is my world. is where i extend my world. make my world. this is where i create my ideal and picturesque universe for my own and for the others, the others are the characters i create in my universe, produced by machines like pens and papers and inks. manufactured by a brilliant brain system that was mine. 

     Oblivious yet sensitive and observant of the happenings outside this universe, which is my room, I'll be taking notes of the human activities, find there flaws, keep in mind there strengths and weaknesses. then i will use and parlay these learning and observations into something grandiose and useful in perfecting my universe.

just before i sleep

the night rest on the mother's womb

hiding some child from the hyenas 

and we rest in our humble tomb

or sleep like the tired ballerinas.

but before i ride the couch like Cinderellas'

when the clock rings in the gay midnight

interfering the soft waltz and ballads,

let me ride Aladdin's carpet on a joyful flight.

wolfs, night hawks, even laughing hyenas are benignant.

kings and queens, and princesses and prisoners, demons

greeted me and for a while ceased there malignant 

as i came swirling, they offered me juices of lemons.

gems, crowns, and treasures of perpetual stones.

waved them brilliant sparkles, almost blinding

as i swished to the castles, clouds and domes.

flight to flight, polar to polar, like peter pan, I'm flying!

the night, the dead and the feast.

dine with the dead, i welcome you all

music from the lark, the orchestra of thy soul

livening our humid heart, pleasure our stroll

tonight, let's leave our corpse, glide down to the hall.

painted the ceiling on tints of sad blue

ornate dusts of gems, sparkle, glitter, brilliant hue.

lavish clouds conceal there perfect symmetry 

envious on the attention we bestow upon thee.

quaint scenery perfected with our attendance

the ceilings the gems all decor our feast

tonight we oblivious to sadness, and we mingle our glance

and free our laughter, our spirit, we once ceased. 

to some this ball might be frivolous

a collection and dine of the most lamenting,

but to the dead, this gathering is utmost pious,

the rebirth of the hearts deprived with joying.

and so faces powdered like that of a dead

resigned the warmth of life in a cold coffin,

welcome, for we shall drink wine and eat bread

and let our soul free to its jubilant soarin'.

Pagkukubli.

ang mga bulaklak ay nalalanta

sa ilalim ng aking mga paa

at ako ay nababasa

sa ilalim ng liwanag niya.

pinulot ko ang sarili

at pinilit tumayo ng matuwid

ikinulong ang bahaghari

sa kadiliman ng silid.

pinagdamot sa sarili ang tawa

ng sanggol na sa sinapupunan niluwa

---at ang magiging kasukdulan,

ang lahat ng sakit

ay magiging kathang isip.

tulad ng pait

na sa hangi'y pinapaihip. 

   My first poem written in Filipino here in my blog. I'm really trying to dig in my mental dictionary for filipino words, and what a shame.. only a few did I remembered and can be rhymed with the next words. To think the words are just simple Tagalog. In the past, I used to make essays, poems and articles in filipino. That is when our teacher requires us for it is a part of the curriculum. Way back then, i can even impress my teachers because I am so poetic and i use deep Tagalog words. I love filipino language, I love my native tongue and it is a shame not to acknowledge and use it, specially to devastate it through erroneous usage of words. 

 I should encourage myself and others to read more articles, literary works written in Filipino. So that we will never ever forget it. The worst thing that might happen if we will not practice the language more often is to be oblivious of the native dialect, and we fear that to happen.

the Cat with an Attitude!

   I woke up. I walked ghastly going to the kitchen. I drank my coffee. I saw a ANOTHER stray cat! I spitted the coffee off. I started blogging. 

  A new feral feline just moved in to our house! I already loss count on the number of cats we adopted. hehe.

   Well anyway, as what i mentioned, a new cat is at home. Actually, he's not so feral, he's very disciplined and sophisticated and noble and refined and pompous. Unlike the early settlers, who are vivacious and vixenish and likes to be played with, this one is kinda snobbish. He even feels comfortable slouching on the doormat like he's been here all his life. He's a tiny little kitten, scattered gray and white in color and has a very fierce gray eyes. They look fierce because he always squints them every time I came close. But I like him anyway, because he likes to stay in our house.

   Granny told me that she tried to shoo off the kitten outside the gate, but just a little while, she saw it again snuggling at the doormat and he's even mingling with the old cats, or should I say that the oldies are the one socializing with him. They welcomed the new kitten with warm tongues! yes, they started licking the kitten. I suppose they want him to feel at home. But instead of licking back, he just stayed in his picturesque disposition, sitting like Cleopatra's cat, and ignored the two.... my, my, this feline has an attitude.

flight with the night.

i saw a canopy boating above the sea of clouds

on it's voyage i heard the siren sounds

and fishes of assorted hues jumping on its floor

dying blues of valley from the deep to the shore

and i saw a cherubim too, fishing the stars

climbed, played on the clouds which looked like poplars.

and he rested his body on it's flufiness

the wind clad him like a warm dress.

and i here below, watched him with envy

as he flipped and flew before my eyes with gaeity

contented my own hunger with the view above me

maybe in dreams alone will i be as free.

i saw a cherubim last night, or maybe it was me i saw playing and flipping above the sky and the clouds and the virgin moon.

take it from the dead

linger aimlessly on the pavement, i walk

unmindful of the wind, wherever i may take

dancing and entwining ,swaying in my flimsy frock

the wind chilling, my face as cold as a fake.

expectant heart, suppose you walk across

on my way, and greet me with cold eyes.

cloak me with your silence, dangled me with frost

and when you passed through me, my heart dies. 

it's the coldest poem i ever written.

round ivory

darling moon resting on the hammock of clouds

swirling its cold mist on her silver rounds

caressing it gently, oh how i love to touch

but I'm immortal, not mighty, fool's dream as such.

dream a dreamer's dream, hopeless it seem.

to touch her goddess, no hope, not a dim.

thus, what to do this fainting heart?

if in all it's beauty did my languidness start,

for my ambition is so high like her throne,

to touch her with affection is my dream alone.

oh, how bleak! how foolish, how sick!

and contemplating this dream, saddens my frolic.

buries all my merriment in a deep grave,

and no her, no way can it's corpse be saved.

and so, with all my words and tunes and art,

i'll bridge them all to you, 

and no wind, no storm, no sun can keep us apart,

for them are offered with love so strong and true.

if them are the way, the way alone,

to hide my sorrow, to this god made of stone,

let them be! and all shall be offered,

my heart, my art and soul, 

my happiness, my pains i suffered,

let them be all for you my goddess of stone!

and when i surrender to sleep tonight, let in my dreams,

your eyes, yet cold and nonchalant, with love be shown.

dance with you

if just a single voice from you free my music away, 

dancing to the tangos gliding into sway, 

can ignite my orchestra in every word you say,

then dance with me, sing with me and stay.

you'll be the frame, and inside you i'll lay,

beautiful and serene, lazy and languid and gay,

and we'll stretch like a cat stretches to the day,

take my hands, and i'll be your humble prey,

let's fall in love, dance, sing and sway.

what i wanna say is....

    Sitting in this chair pretending it's comfortable. In front of the monitor, absorbing it's radiations. Beneath the ceiling behind the walls , protected from the outside, but not from the monster within. Blue as the light streaming in from the cerulean curtains in the window hanging. Fit n' right bottle filled with water, half opened with leaked cap left by my brother. Dog beneath me, my feet above him. Hands on the keyboard, typing whatever nothingness on my head, typing whatever keys my fingers can get, fighting my state of mind, fighting the emotions springing in the numbness of my heart, hiding the happiness that's shattering my reasons apart, foreseeing the future in a can loitering on the street, kicked by someone stranger's feet, wrinkled from the sudden blow. 

I don't know. I don't know how to say what I know I'm trying to say....

I miss you. 

that's all.

I just miss you.

I wish this feeling will leave just how this feeling did sprung.

As ephemeral as the butterfly's joy dancing carelessly on the petals.

The moment i wake up when the reality's bell rung.

And hide myself down again to the cellars.

Bring me back to the contentedness of lone.

Back from no one competes to be deserved.

When heart's foolishness is not hard as the stone.

And it's insanity is protected, preserved. 

I wish this feeling will desert me soon.

For my soul cannot stand the ghost of your absence.

Let me, let my butterfly back to her cocoon.

And let die her joyful nonsense.

But is it? Is it how I want it be?

To just leave this night with our carcasses,

And hold back our voyage to the sea?

To burn down our wonders to gray ashes.

To deprive the sunflowers with it's bright canary?

Oh not! ... speak not again with this cowardliness,

Do step on the road the heart does tell,

Don't deprive the soul with this query gayness,

That the reasons can easily unbound the spell.

Enough of this coward hiding behind the veil,

Unleash your chains, free thy boat from the dock,

Free to fly, free thy soul and sail,

Be not afraid of pirates, not even to fail.

P.S

missing you does make me a poet.

silly friday.

   i think this will be the first time I'll be writing some thing pathetic in my blog, something pathetic about myself which i really find silly to be a subject on my blog. nevertheless, i would still be writing this one today because i have nothing to write anyway. 


i think of you.
i don't know if you're thinking of me too.
i saw you happy today.
i hope i was the reason.
i saw you smile today,
which you never did when you're with me.
feeling like a prison
behind the bars of your memory.
i saw you gay.
it's the first time.
and pathetic to say.
I'm not the reason why.
you said you're happy.
i know you would,
we hadn't seen each other.
i know you're feeling good.
today you smiled.
because someone greeted you.
and it's not me.
for we hadn't seen each other
for a week or two.
how silly i am, how silly
not even in jest
that you'll remember me.
thinking that it's me
that put on that smile on you
oh, how i would love to say
but i know it's not
thus leave me in dismay.
is this a poem i'm writing?
i hope it is.
is it i you're dreaming?
i hope it is. 




this is not  a poem. this is just a collection of words coming from my pathetic side, coming from my mind when i come to think of this someone, coming from the deep abyss of feminism, coming from my hopeless affection, coming from my nothingness.

It's raining teeth and snakes!!!

   I dreamed bad today. It was a horrible and scary nightmare. It was about snakes and teeth falling apart. I already had past dreams about these stuffs but I think this is the first time I dreamed both in one sleep!

Oh, how scared and agitated I was when I woke up! sweats are excreting fast on my pores and sliding on my skin. My heart pumping and beating fast beneath my rib cage. I cooled myself down for a while. Took a deep breath, wiped my sweats and cleared my mind from unwanted terrible thoughts and when my system already calmed down, I decided to blog down the experience and research for the dream's suitable interpretation.

(*Stop that cacophonous sounds you're making beneath dog! or else I'll decide to walk you out of this room!)

   Anyway, experts said that dreams about snakes means fear and sexual desire. It means that some of my sexual desires wasn't satisfied or I have some fears of the opposite sexes. It also means evil things. On the other hand, the dream about the teeth falling off is about the lack of self-confidence on yourself. You always hesitate to do things because you fear criticisms and objections. 

 

Of (great) Books and (fat) Dogs.

   Here I am again, finding a cozy nook in the house, trying to fence in my space, escaping the world of the living for a while and indulging myself to this book I'm reading. Books had always been an escape when I know I would almost be caught by the stresses of the present and the ghosts of the past, and the uncertain  future. Books--they had always been my companions, strange but knowing, unmoving and moving, sympathetic and nonchalant companions. 

   It's amazing where these non-living companions brought me now, to the place unknown, places I never knew that have been existing in fictions or history, to the ideas and imaginations I didn't know my former caliber of thinking would gradually reach as times passes, as chapters unfold, as pages turns. Books brought me into a level of thinking that I find as a blessing and as well as a curse, a thing that inflicted pride and humility in my being. 

   Life wouldn't be worth living if nobody cries on your burial, and books wouldn't be worth reading if it didn't even move you. 

- Cyrell Alingasa

   I'm planning to write the things my dog did while I am reading a book but it turned out that i'm again writing against my first plan. hehe. Anyway, as I was saying, my dog acted weird while I was reading. First he sleep comfortably underneath the PC, which i think is his favorite spot in the room. Afterward, upon seeing me placing my pillow on the floor and slouching and sprawling my legs, finding the right position for a long read. King walked towards me, push her head on the pillow beneath my armpit. ..and I say.. hey? What the hell are you doing King? Got no place to wipe your face? and then there he was, snuggling beside me. (I really think my dog is neurotic, he always want excessive attention to be bestowed upon him... but now I won't dog, see i'm kinda busy, no time for that ok. )

   After a few minutes, he hanged his head on my elbows... now, where are we getting pup? you annoy me with all these weird gesticulations. What are you trying to say dude?? 

   Haist, some dogs, after a little while half trying what he's up to. i put some food on his bowl and i think i cracked the chest up. I was right. he just want to be feed. I came to notice it's quarter passed 3 and his already nagging me for his "merienda". tsk3. 

   As a conclusion, dogs really act weird when they want to appear conspicuous because they want you to feed them already. It is when they are hungry that they act peculiar. :)

   Anyway, my dog is getting fatter and idler. He's ballooning to be the fattest dog in house. I think that's how he shows his superiority among the rest of the dogs. tsk3.

Well, anyway, let me get back to my reading sanctuary....

i just remember some thing... my dog peed on my brothers books, and my brother put the blame on us humans... tsk2. There will be no justice in court if the complainant is a mere human and the defendant is a cute dog with a teary eyes and fluffy hair. 

It's nice to meet you again Virginia Woolf.

  All I could do was to offer you an opinion upon one minor point—a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction; and that, as you will see, leaves the great problem of the true nature of woman and the true nature of fiction unsolved.-Ch. 1 

                                                           -Virginia Woolf

    I admire her. I deeply admire her works though i had just read the two of them. I hope to be finding more of her great, mind-stirring works at the library.

  I'm fortunate to have ran my eyes and stopped at the query title on the shelf while I'm looking for a J.D Salinger book. that is when i found Mrs. Dalloway. After reading it I subjected myself to reading more of her works and that lead me to A Room Of One's Own, which i may say, really struck and justified my rights as a woman and an ever struggling writer.

   While reading her biography, I had found out that we have some things in common, like being bipolar, distressed from having focus on things like reading and writing long enough, there are times that we could be highly vivacious and gay and entertaining as well as give long periods for serious writing. 

   When I  looked at her picture in the internet, I was awed for a while when a very familiar face came out. That is when a cue bring out memories in the past. I remember myself staring at the picture of this woman in our encyclopedia back in my childhood days. I was just looking at her because I found her beautiful on the semi-side profile pose. I think, since then, every time i read our encyclopedia, I never miss a chance to look at her picture. I came to know that she's famous, but i did't know in what aspect it is. I engraved her face in my long term memory that's when I came to see her picture again in the internet, ergo i was awed.

"i'm happy to meet you again Ms. Virginia Woolf."

It doesn't mean that you're KING, then you act like a KING!

   My dog is snoring so loud under my feet. Yes, he's under my stinking feet. I like his fluffy soft body cushioning it.  He even leaks my toes sometimes it's like massage.. hehehe. I can't imagine how this creature could actually bare my feet. Well aside from it's stinking cause I haven't take a bath yet, it's kinda heavy, considering it includes the weight of my legs.

***

   I take him off for a walk inside our house... (the route is from my room going to the sala then to the kitchen and the last stop will be at my room, where we started. hehehe!) wooh! what a long walk! oxygen nearly ran out my lungs. I was drained! (*i'm not even half trying to convince you.) 

Anyway, my dog already took his bath after the epic walk... and his human hasn't yet. What a shame! 

dog: (stare) want me to scrub your back?

human: uh-no. I can manage. hehehe.

dog: Make sure to scrub your feet first. They're like toxic waste on my nose.. eeew.

human: Then why the hell are you leaking it?! huh!?

dog: You know i'm kinda somnambulist, I do stuffs when i'm sleeping, maybe I wasn't aware i'm nibbling the bone out of you, besides, you're so bony. 

human: Yeah, i remember.. you even peed on my books. Anyway, did you brushed after?

dog: Of course i brushed and gargled.

human: Ok, good. Now get out. I don't need you here.

dog: Just bark me if you do. heheh! (wagging his tail out of the bathroom.)

***

"unwanted" FACT:

My dog's name is KING... my nickname at home is ... PAKING. 

So every time my parents calls me out, my dog also comes over, and vice-versa.

My dog is really good at substantiating his name... well, he's like the king of the house, and we are his servants.

caracasses of the night.

"Why do you love me?"

"Why not"

"Answer me."

"Do you need some scientifical, philosophical, psychological reason?? hmm?"

"If that will satisfy my questions, why not?"

"You know, i only have one "major major" reason why i love you.. It’s that I love you. And the rest, they are just reasons for us to love each other more. "

"What if I won't give you reasons to love me."

"Then I’ll give you 1000 reasons to love me. So that if you love me already, i will be loving you back."

"What if I won't still."

"Then I’ll leave you. I’ll leave with your nothingness. i won't ever come back, unless you'll give me 1000 reasons to do so."

   It's still 11 in the evening and Mr. sleep hasn't dropped by to fetch me yet. So I decided to open my blog when in the middle of my brooding over what to write, I heard exchanges of dialogues outside. So i peeped outside my window and there, I guess they're having a break up. That’s when I came to formulate the dialogue above. Sorry guys for eavesdropping in your conversation. hehehe. I can't help it,  it's kinda dramatic. Anyway, these are not the original lines and the reason of there separation. I guess it involves some third party.
   I just came to notice that the girl never dropped a tear in the whole conversation, as some weaklings would probably do. She didn't show a ray of despair or weakness. But soon after the boy left, she choked soft sobs on that street alone. Silently, I want to console her but i guess she can do it herself. She’s kinda tough nut. Also, she might discover how I violated there rights to privacy when I eavesdropped at there conversation. 
   After a few sobs, she wiped her eyes took a deep breath and went off with the carcasses of the night-- she looks fascinatingly fine. I like her.

GREEN DAY.

   I'm just one of the millions of people who has nothing to do with our dreadfully boring lives so we decide to write and make it less dreadful but still boring. 

   It's a fine day here in my world, green leaves outside the window, green curtains hanged on the window, green jokes passed with the more dreadfully bored people on GMs(group messages), green clouds above my head...

today is the Green day. i love green. do you? 

   It's cool, it's slimy, it's minty, it's just something i want to write because i have nothing to write at all. well, it's the house's dominant color since granny put on this new curtains, for a change maybe, or like me, she has nothing much to do and she wants to keep herself busy. (*try blogging it all down granny!)

   Anyway, it's already 12th of September, geeh, semester break is fast approaching. time really flies fast when you're doing a lot of things. (i'm supposed to be BORED, or am i just pretending?? hehe).

   Sometimes it feels like it's just Monday and when you manage to pause and take a look at the calendar, you won't even notice that you already halved  the week! Isn't it fast?? well, technology make it fast.. loads of work make it faster.. and a bossy finicky editor doubles its speed.

Today's Sunday, it's my green day, i want to slow down for a while and drink a cup of green tea... oblivious of all the works... responsive with the green nature all over me... hmmm. 

   It's Sunday! give yourself a break and sleep! go back to bed! SLEEP--this is the only time wherein you can get more than enough of that reward you have been depriving with yourself for the past 6 days of this week! enough of this blogging! blogging just make you hungry... like now, don't even try to deny that that's not your stomach clamoring!  There's no other stomach here apart from yours. 

ZZzzzzz.

   Time check, it's half past 9 in the morning and the sun is obviously and inevitably up already. But the bed is damn inviting... can't resist. Never say never to bed. 

Zzzzzzz

Cold Milo. Cold Water. Good Morning.

A cup of steaming Milo in front of me, rest it's bottom on the upper platform just over the keyboard. Waving conspicuously its smoke, like a stranger puffing fumes from his cigar, playful and inviting, like smooth waves from the brush of a confused artist, just playing her strokes with no distinct direction, just stroking until the brush dries out its ink. Like this cup of Milo, cooling down for there are no smokes coming out from its muddy surface anymore. The absence of warmth filled the cup, i guess I'll be drinking a used-to-be steaming now cold as water MILO. Yes it's cold, but the sweet taste would always linger on the buds of my tongue until I'll be drinking a glass of water to slide away its sweet residues.

Cold Milo. Cold water. Good morning. 

the epic characters!

The making of an epic storyline for an epic movie.

(a scrap)
...male protagonist saves distressed female partner, they will be chased off by goons while being fired by guns, the car will fly while it's on fire, the two will run away from the exploding car (*scene in slow-mo) and then they'll look enticingly at each other and kiss..

"VISIBLE" CHARACTERS:

TOTOY: - male protagonist
              -well-built, good-looking streetbum looking for a descent job at a manor owned by a filthy rich filipino-chinese businessman
CHESKA: -female protagonist
               -filthy rich filipino-chinese businessman's artificially vivacious spoiled daughter who would about to be engaged to a rich son of his father's illegal business partner
MR. CHUA: - protagonist female's father
                    -former filthy rich Fil-Chi businessman owning the manor, he will be bankrupted because of his abnormal obsession for
                       gambling.
                    -he owns the second biggest shabu labotarory in the philippines
MRS. CHUA: -the ambitious, vixenish, and flirtatious stepmother of the female protagonist
                     -she likes flirting with the male protagonist specially when he's cleaning the pool
MR. CHONGKOIKO- Mr. Chua's shrewed and evil (well, both of them are sinister) business partner
                              - he bribes Mr. Chua to engage there children in order to save the latter's declining business
MRS. CHONGKOIKO- the wife of Mr. Chongkoiko
                                - she frequently goes to Bello's clinic to inject botox on her face and decrease her physical inferiority crisis
                                - she is envious and materialistic
                                - she's holding a secret that will eventually cost her life
EN CHONGKOIKO - the genetically idiot son of Mr. and Mrs. Chongkoiko
                             - he's a fish-looking guy and is constantly drooling unconciously
                             - he'll soon be engaged to Mr.Chua's daughter
ENTENG-  male protagonist's imbecile bestfriend and sidekick
             -  he's a beer-bellied lad and he likes to eat any kinds of street foods as long as it's cooked on streets and is edible.

TO BE CONTINUED....