minsan... kasama si ely

our day...

the frightening wonder of it – a lifetime together, always together, “till death do us part.” what a promise! to live with me year by year, day by day – to be my consort – the sharer in every strength, in every weakness; to enjoy every success; there together in every sorrow, suffer every defeat; to gaze upon that same face each morning; to look upon that same canvass, on the same easel; to live with my lift of laughter or cry of despair; to experience my patience, my temper; the tenseness of my lips and then the softness of them; to see my hands clenched tightly in anger and then to feel their loving clasps in strange tenderness.

you came to me without knowing my weaknesses. i never exposed them to you in courtship’s strange parade. the truer part of me has not walked out as yet. it stood behind the curtain, quite veiled from your sight. but marriage will draw the curtains apart and the play will begin. this is the true act. the courtship was but the symphonic prelude to the play. you will learn to know me gradually. there is no hiding now. you have never seen my temper when it stompped wildly on. you had but seen me march circumspectly in engagements poised parade. when hurt you did not know that my wounds heal slowly. there is the child in me that you must learn. my youngish learning for applause. you have not yet discovered the weakness in my armour when the battle was on. you have never seen the gaps in the walls of my courage till you walk with me on that strenuous day.

but there is the other side of me. in the face of praise you will see me walk humbly on many a day. i can take defeat without bitterness and success without pride. when the world criticizes you, you will see how swiftly i rush to your side with shield of faith. you have sensed the passionate clasp of my arm in early love. but the day will come when i come to you at the close of day weary and beaten; when my weary fingers will but steal across to touch your dear hand and do no more than enjoy your dear quiet nearness and bask in the luxury of the truth that you are just there beside me, always beside me!

beneath the pose of self-sufficiency, you sensed the emptiness that only you can fill. my sense of god? one does not wear that in her sleeves. i do not bare my soul to the crowd nor one does bring out the royal jewel for the multitude alone, but it is there and you will sense my love of mountain tops and high places. you will find an altar in my soul, there together we shall dwell. i will not forsake you there for marriage is the mating of two souls, more than of two minds and bodies that i know.

you came to me not knowing, just bravely hoping. for that i love you deeply. with one throw of devotion, you cast at my feet and my heart, your future, your name, your soul, your trust, your all – sweet gambler of my heart!

-anonymous

it pierced my heart... the insensitivity of your voice. for a long time i tried to understand if any of it was my fault. were you helplessly forced, as you put it, in the choices that you made? did i make a prison, as you put it, out of your spoken promises and whispered dreams? the moment your words tainted my heart, i knew i would change. i knew the me you refused to understand will finally find itself out of the world i have created with only you in it.

all this time i hid behind the cover of disbelief and doubt. i never thought you could have felt the way you did, and i never thought i could have done what you accused me of. it hounded me for days. i would have prefered the perfunctory nightmare, at least it has no reason in tormenting me in my sleep. it just exists... at dayend... when the world is at its blackest and coldest. you on the other hand, i gave my heart to. what wonder to wake up in the truth that you have been coerced.

i tried to deal. it was not easy to face each day with uncertainty and regret in my mind. always worried, always concerned, always wondering whether you have finally stayed because you wanted to stay. whether you meant every word you said and done the best you could. whether you have finally looked at me the way you should.

the lingering pain you gave was too much at times... when you find yourself too proud to take me in your arms. too principled to make a room for the possibility that i am right. too angry to contain the fierceness in your touch, the cruelty in your words, the selfishness in your eyes. too stubborn to realize that i never did think ill of people.

and so i lift my face from this shattered charade. it is not worth it anymore.

why can't it stop and let me breathe. why do i have to wrestle with dread that strangles and chokes like clawing shadows in the dead of night. shackling my every move. numbing every bit of sense, slowly, painfully toying with the dream i kept within my heart.

has it always been there, unnoticed, hidden behind my joy. was i too careless to have missed what inevitably is my downfall. or did it creep like a poisonous need consuming all that is good and pure and mine.

i stared in the blankness of hope knowing one day i will have to make a choice. your nearness breathing heavily the cares of everyday makes it harder to see what it is i fear. what it is i have to give up to save my dying soul. i can see the stars from where i am but they never shine like they used to. i can feel the wind but not the kind with whispers in their breeze. and as the minutes drag itself painstakingly slow, all the emptiness inside fills with longing for the time when i was never unsure. when i knew what is meant in every kiss, every smile, every mystery in your eyes. when i close my own in the stillness of night and knew every breath you take is mine.

musings

soaring through the sea of doubts
i remember waking
i remember trembling
i remember a gust of fear
clinging like claws inside my heart

i moved
slowly
along the sway of dropping leaves
in the winter fall
numbing fall

perturbed, i searched for a streak
a momentary jolt
unfathomable
blinding
defeaning

shimmering amidst the darkest of skies

------------------------
so many things i want to say, but always words are harder to find ...the deeper the whisperings of the heart

a hard look

imagine the world coming to terms in a mere second of recognition. when you realize a lie for what it is and the truth, whatever is left of it. it is not the unraveling of what is that is surprising, rather the inability to have seen the shadows lurking behind the façade of instability.

it pierced like dagger meeting fresh flesh for the very first time. unfamiliar, intolerably painful, gaping fear of insecurities and doubts. and as reasons are withheld from the heart that has gone through innumerable acts of deceit, it became very clear that reasons can no longer pacify what has surged from the depths of despair. suddenly it is no longer the agony of not knowing that kills, but the ugly truth that it is not love but the need for convenience that has fueled the in betweens.

it is unnerving, to say the least. the cruelty of blatant irresponsibility. of craftily weaving one’s way out of a less than perfect situation. of creating reasons after lame reasons in the hope for a diversion from one’s own incapacities. it could not have been more disgusting, could not have been more humiliating, could not have been more low than that of outright abuse. and yet it persists, for reasons other than love. it continues a life of its own, for reasons far from that which have led a heart to believe in the magic of what might have been.

almost honest

one could not make oneself see clearly what happened in between the need to preserve what little semblance of a dream one had had and the desire to make everything alright. there is a verifiably thin line between what is and what is not and sometimes looking too hard for the hidden intentions prove to be more of a curse than a light that shines through what is real. could it be that a heart that chooses to not see always pay the price of ignorance. could it be that a mind that is drowned by faith rather than reason gets numb by disbelief. could it be that the ardent pursuit for destiny, amidst the ravages of reality, is a futile attempt at impossibility.

alone again, in the depths of pity, one asks oneself, are those tears streaming down uncontrollably from the eyes devoid of any emotions. have the memories scattered its way in the chaos of a mind gone blank. shadows of hopes dying in the painful struggle to create an illusion where happiness is not conditional and love… love is all what it is supposed to be.

immobility, could not have been more addictive in this state of catatonic confusion. perhaps, one sees more when one’s ability to react is forcefully suspended for an uncertain time. when there is no room enough to consider the possibilities. and as the words that have remained unsaid braved its way out of a faltering mouth, one slips into nothingness, with only a faint longing that the ride would be too calm to feel anything but.

pour l'intervalle

l'était parce que vous étiez la blessure

que vous avez voulue des raisons pour les choses qui étaient.

l'était parce que vous êtes mort un million de temps par-dessus

que vous avez eu besoin de comprendre pourquoi pour chagriner était si beaucoup

de lui calme traîne comme une imprécision inconcevable dans votre âme en lambeaux.

l'était parce que l'amour vous échapper à aime un caillou au milieu de l'immensité de vie

que vous pleurez pour la consolation, vous criez pour le confort,

vous saisissez pour l'une chose qui vous a fait la façon vous êtes.

vous avez habité la vie toujours se demandant,

ne sachant pas si vous avez obtenu l'améliorer de vie ou il a obtenu l'améliorer de vous.

toujours dans que laisser perplexe l'état de confusion

si vous êtes sorti mieux que vous étiez avant

qu'ou pire à cause de la perte de transpercement.

vous n'avez jamais compris la réalité de ce qu'est arrivée,

toujours se rappelant, à jamais souhaitant… pour cette paix inconnue.

fera le fait une différence.

le fera tout part.

l'est la valeur traversant la rugosité d'hier

voir la fermeture imaginée.

fera le prend de retour l'a retardé et guérit les blessures ouvertes.

fera le fait les ombres de chagrin à jamais pour disparaître

et partir vous avec assez de courage pour dire au revoir.

ou le fera vous a mené d'un éclat aveuglant encore

à ce chemin oublié et à la joie

et à la réclamation écrasante que qui est déjà le mien.

in retrospect

sleeping thru it

perhaps i could not have prevented the fall. i look deep within and i see shadows of emotions that have lain immobile far too long and far too deep. it is not the shadows fault, i knew that from the start, it is the struggle to avoid stirring the assumed silence. oh yes, it screams from way below the core of my spirit. yes, it breathes out feelings of guilt and doubt and uncertainties. but for reasons further than one can comprehend, it remained as still as a dying leaf in the winter fall.

what is it that i crave? is it the desire to be who i am? or is it the numbing pain of not knowing? i careened off the plateau of hope barely believing i could ever fly or land or suspend myself long enough to feel the blinding wind across my face, or taste the piercing rain on my lips, or see the changing horizon right before my very eyes. but i did fly and i did touch the clouds and saw the canvass of a dream i created in my mind. and then the colors came… pale at first but slowly… painfully… became the hues that define every joy and every smile.

i still have not figured out when or how to land but that is beyond me now. i have the colors of the rainbow to keep me warm in this fragile flight to life.

empress in need of slumber

i replied to unanswered messages, i made pending testimonials, i cleaned up a thousand plus messages in my inbox, i read and re-read what i wrote many years ago, i savored what the few blessed individuals i call friends think of me, i deleted unwanted addresses, i blocked stalkers and exes and friends turned witches... but i can't find sleep at 3:06 in the morning.

this blog will be edited in the morning because i am supposed to be writing about victories - that of a friend and that of someone i seem to have lost in the forgotten past. i am supposed to be writing about resignation - to a truth that can no longer be blurred and to a lie that has been weighted and deemed liberating than all the unspoken words. i am supposed to be writing about defeat - of one that has seen too many dark nights and someone who is about to go through the perilous journey to discovery.

but i am no good a writer... hence, insomnia settling in instead of ideas forming into words.

birthday bliss

when i begin to look back at how i played the story of my life, it appears to me that for the most part i was just pretending to be brave. the act itself was the one fueling my passion to achieve great things, to get to where i want, to be who i thought i was meant to be. it was not a question of destiny, it was a matter of definition. but life, as i later found out, is beyond logic. life is beyond reason. life is beyond the 'whys' and the 'hows' and the 'what nows'. it is beyond the answers to the many questions that have informed the path i chose. it is saying 'yes'. it is grasping every bit of courage to make that first step. it is trusting and risking everything that you are for that one tint of hope at happiness.

if someone but to ask, this probably is the time of my life when everything seem to fall into their right places at exactly the right time. these moments are the moments that will make up the history of my life. the bits and pieces of my everydays, the passions and the yearnings, the unspoken dreams and the whispered promises, the love i have found in someone who is as perfect as the love he gives... comforting my soul, warming my heart, showing me a tomorrow that is worth the tears of yesterday.

this is the dream i thought i lost somewhere between coping with reality and struggling with pain. a time when truth become lies and certainties become vague and love becomes an unfamiliar, strange tapestry of yesterday. i never did survive. i lived each day with a gap in my heart for that moment in my life when i died a million times. when i cried in sorrow for the words i cannot say, the questions i was not allowed to ask, the apprehensions that were never really eased from the chaos of the what could have beens. the tears welled up because there was turmoil within, there was uncertainty underneath for the promises made and commitments given, there was doubt scattered like sands in the heart that has heard one too many lies, that has endured one too many cruelties, that has been taken for granted undeniably too many times. and still i live. still i breathe in the challenges of everyday not knowing if one day i will find something to fill that hole and forever mend what was broken. to make all the wrong things right. still the heart keeps on beating, still the heart longs for a reality that does not translate to days of sorrow and pain.

fate indeed has a way of surprising even the most cynic in all of us. perhaps to make us see that yes, one deserves to be happy. to show that life is beyond one's control. to realize that the sooner we let go of the reigns and let it glide like it is supposed to, the better it is for us to notice what is beyond that which we cannot imagine. it was a moment that defined my reason. it was a moment that i knew was righfully mine to own. it was the moment i looked into his eyes and saw a reflection of a love so true it defies the test of time and human inconsistencies.

i was humbled and i was made proud. i lost much and gained far greater. i was blinded but found my way back to that place where joy is real and love is pure. where i see what is and believe. where i am seen as who i really am and is loved without doubt and without hesitation. i paid my dues, that is for sure, it was not an easy ride. and here i am again, in the threshold of the unknown, embarking on to a journey to discovery... this time to bask in the sunshine of joys and forevers. and then, once more, after a very long time, the tears finally found its way to fall uncontrollably from my eyes that have finally learned how it is to really smile.

in betweens...

he is amazing in the most wonderful of ways. the way he touches my face with the hands that have gone through a lot. the same hand that reaches out to me every other second even though i am just an inch away, seemingly in fervent want of assurance that he is always loved. the same hand that tempers my pains and my hurts and my classic i’m-pissed-if-i-don’t-get-what-i-want mood swings. the same hand that is holding my heart in a way that i wanted it to be held…in a way that is meant to last.

he rushes to my side every time when i come calling for help, weakened and bruised by the cruelties of this world. and then holds me tight not knowing that most of those times i really needed to be hugged. totally unaware that his nearness cures my broken spirit, his voice sooths my troubled soul, his love makes all the concerns of the world pale in comparison.

i can’t help but adore the many times he makes me laugh. those are good laughs, those are real laughs, laughter that comes from the heart, a heart that speaks only of the truth. or the way he insanely tries to see me every single day and still misses me even after leaving just a few blocks from my house. or the many sacrifices he makes simply to see my face lit up and smile. that is fulfillment for him, that gesture defines the purpose in his life… to make me happy.

oftentimes the things that matter most in life are the ones we find too hard to define. perhaps because they are too grand to grasp, or too complex to understand, or maybe human words are just not enough to qualify how my heart leaps at every beat whenever he’s around and how it stops beating whenever he stares deep into my eyes.

and after a long time i still can’t be thankful enough that he is the one holding my hand. that he is the one i share moments with. that there in his arms is where i find my home. that he is the one meant for me. it could not have been more perfect.

to know him is to love him, to love him is to live a life in constant animated bliss. to be loved by him… now that is perfection. and if there is more to perfection than it already is, it is what we have. and that i am his, and he is mine, for all lifetimes to come.

requiem

in all the moments they were together something in his eyes defy reality. something in his voice scream for a past long gone. something in the way he touches her, the way his hands slide down the arch of her back, the way he reaches out when life seems too much to bear, aches for something that was painfully lost… a long time ago.
she never realized until that moment he whispered her name. it was not that he actually said it but in the way he breathed it out as if it still lives deep within his soul. as if he never really meant to move on. it was in the way he would stare at nothing when a single memory of what once was hit him. she never minded before, perhaps because he said it was nothing. she never feared it would affect her, perhaps because she believed every word he said. but then again, she never thought she would be feeling unsure of the love she feels like the very way she feels now.
kudos to her because she knows when the time comes… she will have to let go.


--------- for kat, hoped you moved on my friend

slimwhale tagged me

7 things i can do
1. understand but not necessarily speak french
2. bluff my way through life
3. hang out till 6am in the streets of malate in an effort to understand the behavior of an ass****
4. love madly
5. be spontaneously surprising
6. write, try that is
7. be a pain in the ass when pissed, heheh

7 CDs in your player
1. pet your friends, dishwalla
2. chantal kreviazuk
3. gin blossoms
4. californication, red hot chili peppers
5. eraserheads anthology
6. new wave diaries
7. contagion alternative series

7 things that scare me
1. pitch black
2. reality
3. anything that crawls including spiderman
4. making that first crucial step into the unknown
5. open water, before i learned to dive
6. anything i do not have control of
7. stairs =D psychotic huh!

7 things i can't do but tried
1. wake up at 7am
2. comment without sarcasm =D
3. exceed 90lbs
4. not intimidate guys
5. quit capri
6. fall in love too soon, too fast
7. jam with cookie chua onstage

7 things i like the most
1. my charming romantic
2. long drives with hobbes
3. cold fresh milk, marshmallows, mashed potatoes, books
4. dancing like crazy
5. a warm smile and a big hug
6. UP, diliman
7. great love

7 movies i’ve seen recently
1. pirates of the carribean, first movie at mall of asia's cinema
2. superman, saw it first at imax (... almost screwed up the night =D )
3. xmen, adik kay wolverine, saw it 4 times!
4. silent hill, damn horror movie!
5. tristan and isolde, he slept thru most of it but ended up understanding more than i did
6. ice age 2, mega laugh with a 29yr old kid
7. v for vendetta, half of which i didn't understand, nervously seated next to a totally hot guy

7 important things in my room
1. my treasure chest of stuff, each one with a memory of its own
2. smacky, my gigantic cold repellant
3. potpourri, love it
4. box of journals
5. marbles
6. my shoes
7. serenity

7 things i can't do without
1. jun
2. my cell
3. lip balm
4. pepper spray
5. ATM, hehe
6. my ring
7. prayer

7 nice things that happened to me lately
1. jun mendoza
2. jun mendoza
3. jun mendoza
4. jun mendoza
5. jun mendoza
6. jun mendoza
7. jun mendoza

7 random thoughts on things
1. "so, what's your story?" is one hell of a pick-up line
2. when you wish hard enough, you might probably get what you want, given the right conditions, heheh
3. it doesn't really matter if you win or lose, so long as you stirred the water for further tension, bwahahaha!
4. "the greatest pleasure in life is knowing that heart others bleed for, bleeds for me"
5. i love myself too much to be a realization of a dream you have for somebody else
6.
7.

so, what's your story?

it was a whisper… no louder than the passing wind yet not far less stronger than the heaving of a heart gone wild. the night took a turn from fun to curiosity, from the mere ‘here we go again’ to ‘are you for real’, from a strange array of ordinary charade to an uncommon glimpse at reality. and then came the words spawn from a soul that has seen many a days. a dichotomous fruition of love and hate, of joy and pain, of childhood woes and teenage angst, of first kisses and first loves…letting go… holding on… living life.

it was magical… not as the angels would have seen it yet undefiably a moment that can never be replaced… a moment all its own… amidst the clear night sky of full moons and dancing stars. clad in black and size 13’s, eyes dazed, nerves cracking at every point, the feeling was almost juvenile and yet came off better than planned. smiles turned to laughter, calculated breathing turned to uncontrollable upheavals, momentary heartbeat soared to unmistakable joy. it was the wind perhaps, or the smell of the sea, or the dancing thought of fulfilled expectations and anticipation for more that drove the night from good to better to “whoa! this is fun!” and as the night drew to a close, perfected by a kiss made not in the effort to connect but to bond, questions remain as to how long the magic will last, how far can the moment endure, how strong two souls will hold on to a sudden realization of a possibility.

it was fun… the first time became second and third and all the way through lifetime, it is hoped. strangely, every moment is all its own. every shared second becomes a memory etched inside the heart…wanting to erase the scars of yesteryears and breathe in new hopes, new dreams, new chance at forever. every split second of recognition that one is unbearably present, moments when each one reaches out, the eventful long walks, cab drives clasped hands, telephone talks, movie nights, dinners, coffee, drinks, cable tv, chocolait, mashed potatoes, conversations… and when finally the day ends with nary a thought of what tomorrow brings, there is an immeasurable joy of what the present gives.

it was beautiful…when you have waited long enough for that perfect moment, that perfect person, and that perfect reason, what happens next can only be something beautiful. a wonderful fusion of passion and childlike uncertainties, of naivety and unrealizable desires, of a strange sense of insecurity and utmost trust, of preservation and total abandon, of what is and what could be, of insurmountable fear and overpowering love. one could not have imagined the torrent of feelings that passed in between, only they can understand, only they can capture the moments that went before, the moments that encapsulated them during and the moments that affirmed the pureness of intentions after. it was love that brought them together and it is love that will see them through many a tomorrows.

it is love… i could not recall a point in time when i stopped believing and started going down the road paved with classic cynicism, unfulfilled realities and total repression. perhaps broken hearts do make a way for people to create the only world they know they can exist. a world where pain it seems can never cause the tears to fall, where shattered memories have no way of eating up what little joy is left inside, where the nagging sense of loneliness fails to pull one down again and again and again. for whatever reason, it makes one think that life can never really be what it was fashioned to be… livable. i felt myself twinge at the thought that maybe i could do better than this. that perhaps, amidst the bitterness of loss i could still find a crack of hope. and then came jun…

my charming romantic

... jun

prison break

I woke up with nary a thought in my mind of what could possibly be my day. After a very long night of resignation to the fact that some things can never be, I assumed that I would either be scanning the bookstore for the customary solace or maxing out my credit card for well, shoes. I did neither.

Rummaging through my stuff from the night before, my head splitting in pain, screaming ‘too much alcohol!’, allergic rhinitis settling in at that point when you can take no more of those anti-histamines, I saw a dvd given by a new friend. It was a struggle from then on: brave the world and set on to a rendezvous with peyups people to catch the last day of the UP fair, or stay in bed to nurse an almost unbreathable nose and find out why he spent the time to burn me a copy.

So I went back to my unmade bed, reached for my over-hugged teddy, and pressed play. It was 1:30pm. And for the next nine hours, I would be riveted to my tv screen like some lunatic finishing the first season with 13 episodes of Prison Break.

It was the longest I stayed in front of the tv. Like a once-in-a-blue-moon-perfect date, I can’t help but be addictively intrigued with the whys and the hows and the what ifs. Not so much because the lead, Michael Scofield (Wentworth Miller) is so damn hot, but because there was so much in there that stirred a lot of what’s inside me: belief, unfairness, struggle, hopelessness, resignation, options, risk, possibilities, courage, brilliance, truth…

He’s a structural engineer thrown into the labyrinth of crime, conspiracy, justice and love. He tried to make the system work his way. But like an impending disaster, we are consciously aware of the time when all hell will brake lose and reluctantly resign ourselves to an unwelcome possibility way before the actual nagging reality. And for reasons only God can explain, the moments found in between are a cross between utter disbelief in the change of heart and unexplained need for disassociation.

And so he changed reality.

Inability to define the current state-of-mind forces us not to assume indifference to shared realities but to intelligently exist in a realm of possibilities. Michael Scofield suffers from what the demented psychiatrists call “low latent inhibition” where the brain is more open to incoming stimuli thereby processing everything that is perceived. For people with low IQ this necessarily leads to mental retardation since the brain can neither process nor shut off so much information. But for people like Michael Scofield with incredibly high IQ, this uncommon illness produces ingenuity.



And so he made a plan.

Planning requires perfection. Planning requires precision. To get his wrongly accused brother out of the electric chair, Michael Scofield has to get him out of level one facility, Fox River State Penitentiary. To get him out of Fox River, he has to know the blueprint of the place. To know the blueprint, he has to have it with him. And so he did, he held up a bank making sure to discharge a deadly weapon in the process to get himself arrested, he maneuvered the plan to have him sent to the same prison as his brother, with the blueprint tattooed in his entire body. Along with it goes his type 1 diabetes, 'allen schweitzer' 11121147, 'CUte POiSOn' chemical combination, english-fitz-and-percy, chronic sinusitis, enough inmate intel, a telephone number, a leverage, great timing, a lot of charm and a lot of wit for that perfect grand escape. But there is no such thing as a perfect plan. Michael Scofield, like any other person fired by the passion to pursue a cause, underestimated the human factor. We need others to survive. Happiness comes not in fulfilling one’s own course but in harmonizing it with others’. The conflict that spurs out of that integration is what made the perfect plan imperfect after all.

And so he made contingencies.

Season 2 will start in March.

the greatest gift

a collection of pictures of years past, a song that rocks the pretense of happiness, a narration of what truth lies amidst the nagging pain of goodbye...









those were my words, those were my emotions, those were my whispers... hidden underneath are the things i waited for him to say...