Space Between

I am a transparent person. Most often than not, I even to tend to spill information that should be kept between me and my shadow. I don’t see it negatively though. But what I perceive to not be good is the idea that I expect the same thing to people I share my stories with.  I know I don’t have to, but, I still believe that there’s no harm in saying the truth. Unless, it’s a matter of life and something equally important, then I would at least try to understand.  But then, on other cases, please do not blame me for getting quite inquisitive. As they say, its harder to remember fabricated stories than the real ones. So don’t stress your mind trying to reconnect newly-created stories.  Read my lips: I-WILL-NOT-STOP-CATCHING-YOUR-LIES. Relating thereto, I again found a nice article at yahoo.com on some tips on how to spot a liar. So for those people who have been trying to catch these story-innovators, I guess its finally time to accep...

Everybody is turning 3-0. I got to run and hide. Oh well, If only I can do that. Unfortunately, not.  And, literally, I dont want to run away yet. Not this time.  I'm counting months before I formally end my 20s.  Although i just recently turned the end of 20, I am not excited, but, looking forward to ending my age with 0 again.  Its like a new career for me. But then, like any new career, there is excitement, worry and pressure.  I was recently with a friend of mine, who is of the same age range, and during that same recently that she only realized that she is indeed nearing the next level. It was a big OMG on her face. And I tell you, it bugged her. Unlike 2-0, this is something to be serious of.  Too many inevitable changes may be apparent. Too many things are in DIRE NEED to be done. Likewise, a LOT of changes SHOULD be introduced. I'm worried, actually. But I dont want to be. It will just inject lines on my face and o...

I hope the saying that what you do on the first day of the year is a reflection of the upcoming days of your new year, is not true.   Because if that is, I am incessantly crying this 2012. Yes, I ended 2011 and started 2012 crying.   I have been praying to the Heavens to finally get this load I have been carrying since I don’t remember anymore. I don’t want to feel this anymore.   I try to fight it, really, but its virus keeps atacking me so bad that I feel like I am so weak and nearing death. And now, I am seriously considering staying away from its causes. I want to move out. I remember a friend suggesting to me the very same idea when I confided my worries on responsibilities I am about to face. Actually, they are not MY responsibilities, but, just because I wanted life to be easier for my parents, I decided to take those as mine.   The idea is simple though, but its not that easy.—You see, I grew up in a very traditional family.   One rule, although unwri...

I have this fondness with clouds.  I remember when I was young, I dreamed of travelling and playing on top of those cotton-like pillows in the sky.  I dreamed of having a bed made of it. I even planned of living there. The latter of course is now out of my list. Please. Not yet. :) Now, everytime I travel by plane and get lucky to be on the window seat, I remember my innocent days.  I feel I am back to my innocent and carefree self. I feel like I have finally achieved one dream. And, I feel like I made someone's dream now a reality.  And though I know that some of my dreams about the clouds will never come true, at least, I got the reasons why it aint going to be.  For now, although it may mean rain,  I am glad that clouds simply take my bad mood away. Thank goodness there are clouds.

Last Saturday, 4 February 2011, I lost my bag in Amber, The Fort.  My friends and I were happily giggling and dancing when all of a sudden, my bag was stolen.  Oh well, its saaaad but I dont want to cry over spilled milk.  Right now, I just have a good memory of my bag and the personal things I have inside. 1. UP ID my Bayo bag in Cebu  2. Driver's License 3. SSS ID 4. San Beda ID 5. HMO cards 6. ATM cards 7. Credit cards 8. Make-up 9. Graduation Pictures (circa 2003) 10. Pictures (as old as 1995) 11.  MP3 player 12. VS brush 13. wallet 14. 2 cellular phones 15. USBs 16. contact lens 17. lotion 18. Baby's letter 19. pens 20. Memories!                                                      ...

How do you pull the hands of the clock to move faster? How do you click the dates to change in a snap? How do you bring the sun to shine and rise more frequently? How do you wait for the next tomorrow to finally come today?  Yet, how do you do those when you know it’ll still be the same after? Every day is like sitting on top of a pile of nails.  Every hour is like understanding the Ishopekilan language. Every minute is like inhaling blue air.  Every second is like a new pair of jeans that simply doesn’t fit. I guess, this dilemma of feeling the same nail pinned on your back will be unending.  Unless of course, I grab a new hammer to pull it back.  But, until I finally get one, it’ll continue to drench me with pain. I have been in this disease for years now and I must admit, it is partly my fault. It is me to blame for wanting comfort in life. It is me to point at for aiming to earn more regularly.  And it is me to kill for choosing an unfamili...

And now its creeping in my veins again.  Thankfully, I already found the other piece of my heart. Now, I am still looking for the missing parts of my career. Still, wishing myself luck.

Thank you to and for my wonderful parents. I know you think of me as a little bit of bad girl but here’s I tell you—Righteousness is still unrealized  by many to be not synonymous to being bad.—I know you love me and I truly love you more. Thank you to and for the things that I tend to neglect to thank for.  I dont intend to, really. Thank you to and for my office friends for making everyday bearable.  I know sometimes I talk a lot.  I know you get it though. I love you girlets (counting fingers).  Thank you to and for my opportunity to work and get paid. I know, still, there are lots of buts, but, again,  I have to realize that I still have to be thankful. Thank you to and for my other opportunity to go to school. Not only for the side benefit I gained from it, but, also for making my neurons kick again. Thank you to and for my friends from everywhere.  A text message may be sufficient but is still nothing compared to a cold beer and hot din...

I guess loneliness is a mere state of mind. Like happiness, as I often say. It’s more often than not, self-inflicted. And I’d rather not inflict myself anymore. This overrated emotion is rather infectious. In time, I know it’ll lead to something incurable. But time sells cure now. And I already bought one. I now hate spending minutes staring on a still wall and land my imagination elsewhere. I find it rather futility to kill time wondering the what-ifs. I’d rather not think of happy thoughts both time and space witnessed on us.  I prefer omitting the I-hope-there-will-be-us, per se. I now submit to this strength I for a fact know would kill me. And I know time would devour me if I still wouldn’t. Not only time, I guess. This is not sadness, per se. It’s rather a realization of sadness which is inexistent anymore. I don’t believe this but I believe those. I don’t believe myself but I believe my mind. I don’t believe this lie but I believe that still there’s time. I’ll miss eve...

Whenever my system consumes alcohol, I automatically submit to the thoughts of you. You and everything of you. You and exactly how you hold your bottle of beer. You and how the cigarette gets a puff from you. You and how you make my knees go weaker. You and how you manage to get home asleep. You and just the thought of you. I’ve long conceded to the fact that I really do have the hots for you. But man, this is something real. And it gets aggravated everytime I get a bottle of it.  Are alcohol and you quite of the same specie? Nahh. Not even one in my drinking group dared to believe. But, I’d stand by my word. **Pasensha na. Beer-drunk when I wrote this…***

I suddenly asked myself why fate has molded me to become someone I am right now.  I began to think that it might be a curse to always have a need to understand others. That it might be an oblivious mistake to analyze how everything in this world takes its turn. I suddenly wondered why I always have the urge to be rationally different. But then, why would I question this gift that only a few do possess? Thoughts of mine have been playing around for some time now but nobody has ever tried to catch them with their bare hands.  None around would want to take dirt for once and wash them off with what it could really have.  Nonetheless, I never and will never try to beg anyone for that. For as long as I am individually-worthwhile, I will never falter. I’ll keep my eyes straight.  I’ll listen, but not to everybody. I’ll take chances, but not on every second.  I’ll change, but only for me. Maybe, in the extinction of my kind, just maybe, it could have been a better p...

These eyes have been friends with every tear it produces. And the burning enmity it blows has become the marked fume of it.  This mind has been a twin of anger which before is only entertained during bad weather. And this nourishing angst has become the soul of the all its reasons. This heart has been an ally of pain which before only rents space with it. And the enlightening grief has become the sorrow of all who wishes for more light. This body has been painted with frustrations which before is only seen in the naked dreams. And these dismays have lead to the reality of every view it takes glance with. Yet, they do get tired. And now, they really are. And so am I. *** Repost from my Multiply account- 5 May 2008**

And now, I think, I am doing it again. No preferences. No conditions. No qualms. It’s just happening again. Almost everything except the deepest part of the heart.  I remember the last time this outbreak occurred. Two innocent souls playing around like tomorrow never existed. But one innocent soul opted to play with fire instead.  One got burned and the other was left frozen. The scald it left has never entirely healed and neither did the coldness it brought along by.  And time has not done its fair part. I’d always remember how the sheets of paper I broke turned into glass sheets.  How everytime somebody else held his hand, fingers always dripped with blood.  And how his innocence transformed into one malicious body of hunger.  And until now, nobody has held him back in good faith. And finally, I remember how karma came fast knocking into my door. How its smile pretended to be the best visitor I’ll ever have.  And how I gave in to its amusing tal...