grAvity

I was a temporary love bug

2011-05-24T00:08:00.003+08:00

I couldn't help falling in love...It did not really matter that we differ in culture or nationality, but I still loved him like we just lived in the same town, and speak the same language.

I didn't mind my friends' advices: be careful in falling in love, don't give too much.

I decided I want to know and experience love in all its glory by myself. If there is pain in loving, let me know it. And so I did. I accepted him after just 2weeks of daily chatting in the internet.

The first month was wonderful, love is really in the air, I felt like everything was so right and I thought he was the right one for me. We videochat every night for hours, all the sweet words and gestures, and publicly declaring our love. It was the best days of my life. The next month, we started having fights. We hurt each other. From the third month onwards, he had acquired the vanishing-act syndrome. Every now and then, he disappears, and comes back after few days or weeks like nothing happened. Comes the point when I met his ex/girlfriend/lover/original whatever, the one he truly loves. I get all the signs, that was why he made me promise not to tell anyone about our relationship, and why he does not want to commit to me because he still loves her and everyone in his place knows what they've been through. He met me online, had our relationship for just months versus they, in a relationship for 4 years and still communicating every other month. She still loves him and believes that they are meant for each other. Just imagine the pain for me. I swear, it's like I want to cut my wrist and let it all bleed. I loved him so much, trusted him, and told him almost all my secrets. And until now I do love him and that will never change. If I may fall in love once again, and that I really hope, he will stay close to my heart. I am really thankful to him, I've experienced love like never before. He was my stepping stone to the greater scope of romantic love. I love you so much and thank you Anshul.

Frozen In Bliss IV: The King, My Lord

2010-11-22T00:36:00.000+08:00

Thunder pounds through my heart,

Lightning jagged the skies,

Sable heavens open to its final disgrace,

But I alone knew its victor who.

The birds sang him praise.

In spite heaven’s fall,

Tho fire of hell yearns his beard,

No matter flame destroys his valor.

But I alone knew his godly might.

And I alone felt the ardent love of his manhood.

And who am I speaking of?

None but the savior you all love.

He is your man,

Man above men.

And my man, I pride to say,

My man of glory.

The King, my Lord.

And if you would not believe me,

As the wisest would tell thee,

But I swear on my mother’s death,

How lovely his passion for me.

No matter, I said.

What stays is his memorie.

On second thought perchance,

The Creeps whom wants his head,

Oh, burn them! Take them out!

Cruelty, disgrace, violence and shame.

Why my Lord? Why Him of all else?

Power-hungry, thy souls in Hell,

Halt! I beg thee enough!

The King, My Lord!

My Love, my hope!

‘Tis not the time of his defeat,

Not in any hour of this world.

Peace and growth life hath seen,

In this valley o’ goodness our Man reigned;

We love thee, Oh King!

In our hearts, ye remain unfaltering!

And whence they came, as My King expected,

Like Aruka the Empress once said:

“I came from the Faraway, thou shall kneel down before me,

I, Aruka, the Empress tells of power and beauty!

You, the King I doubt the might!

But thou cast all ill-mouthed of speaking heresy.

Thou point at ‘em, and proved thy wisdom.

Thus, a pleasure to his kingdom.”

And it was done.

The eyes of my Dear King hath seen a new flesh,

Not of the weak, not of the meek.

Fair and Wise lady warrior, I beg thee mercy upon me!

I am in misery, a raging green of jealousy,

Why thou?

Milord, what hap my heart?

Forget me not, a love that transcends all that is beyond.

My soul, to which cursed itself of losing thy shadow;

Bear a moment with me, and I shall die with favour.

Unknown, you fancy green serpent-like gazes?

Tight-lipped mouth that speaks of heroic legions?

Pale-white skin glowing in the moonlight?

Divine strength of lady warriors?

Ah! And those breasts of ever a-flow fertility?

Where doth I stand then?

On the green grass of envy,

of jealousy,

of hatred.

And t’was not me at fault.

On my deathbed, never blame me.

The bard whose soft voice lulls me to peace,

I do not feel shame.

Tho’ both sleeps entwined on that nostalgic master’s bed

I do not swallow in grief,

But pray the oceanic creature fall from grace!

Rukiyuki Puzzle

2010-09-18T11:50:00.004+08:00

I came from being Killua to Rukawa to Chaos to Goddess to Cherry blossom to Kiyuki Meili Chizuko to Diamond Stone to Aurora Caelestis to Mistress Gaga to Rukiyuki.

I am multiple in personality, having many faces, numerous identity.

Let me then give you the main fractions of my being:

From Anonymity, I became Gravity, From Gravity, I returned to Anonymity, And from Anonymity, I was pulled back to Gravity.

Anonymity. For once, I was unknown, I never had a name, a real identity, or

was I ever an entity once?

I am someone you will never know, exact and specific.

Gravity. There was this great force which pulled me into its swirl of energy.

It was Gravity.

Lost in anonymity, I found Gravity, pulling me back to the ground of existence, pulling me back to the abyss of my soul, my real soul.

There I found,

a pond of emotions,

of different faces,

of different entities.

Ah, is this me?

is this my soul?

Why, I am not just one, I am many. It was like walking into a wardrobe of various colors and designs, it was extraordinary.

I learned now that I can easily grab one mask and wear it on occasion, I now learned it was not my curse, it was actually what made me special, what made me exquisitely rare. so, now, why would I bother, fret over if people don't like me? if they couldn't understand me? if they choose to mock me?

I now thought,

maybe it was really my intention to confuse people,

to deviate them from my truth.

Maybe...

I always enjoyed playing their minds,

...tricks and stones...

I was a good puzzle...

...that I almost fooled even myself of the reality...

I Can't Keep Smiling Forever

2010-09-14T22:25:00.007+08:00

Just like what they always say, "If you have problems, better keep them to yourself. People don't care about your problems, anyway."

We are not alike, in any way, we differ a lot. But I guess, they're really right in accusing me as indifferent. In fact I am indifferent, that's why I'm so distant from everybody, including those I learned to love, but who doesn't even see me worthwhile.

I have always tried to please, because what I wanted was to simply have someone that I can call my bestfriend. If to have a bestfriend an impossible dream, I can settle for a mere friend.

Tell me, is it my fault that I am too indifferent? Should you blame me for not being too showy of my feelings?

When I say that I treasure you so much, I sincerely do. If I give you a present, a hug or a smile, it is genuine. They say I'm plastic, a liar, a hypocrite. Heaven knows how it stung. I was never plastic, liar, and a hypocrite. They often misunderstood me, and my efforts to please and make my friends feel good goes in vain. It hurts to see them all together, it hurts to hear them utter words that I never heard as a friend, and it hurts to know that you are nothing compared to the other bestfriends.

Why am I always in the least? Someone least intelligent, least kind, least adorable, least loving, least careful, least funny, least beautiful, least talented, least friendly, least noticed, least rememered, least mentioned, and the least special?

I always bear in mind to make everybody feel happy and special. Their good is one of my biggest concerns. I don't care if they laugh at me, insult me, as long as I get to hear just one single statement from them..."You are so special to me." But what do I receive in return? Nothing. If there is something, it's "You are stupid."

I just want to be someone special. I just want somebody to know I'm here, to acknowledge that I'm loving not indifferent, and to be my bestfriend. It's just so simple, isn't it?

Now, I don't think I can keep smiling forever.

Guilty or Innocent?

2010-09-14T22:05:00.003+08:00

From a friends Note in Facebook....

RULES:

1. You can only say Innocent or Guilty for each question.

2. You are not allowed to explain anything unless someone messages you and asks!

3. You must behonest!

Asked someone to marry you?

Innocent.

Kissed one of your Facebook friends?

Guilty.

Danced on a table in a bar?

Innocent.

Ever told a lie?

Guilty.

Had feelings for someone who you can't have?

Guilty.

Ever had feelings for your friend's bf/gf?

Guilty.

Ever kissed someone of the same sex?

Guilty.

Kissed a picture?

Guilty.

Slept in until 5 PM?

Guilty.

Fallen asleep at work/school?

Guilty.

Held a snake?

Guilty.

Been suspended from school?

Innocent.

Worked at a fast food restaurant?

Guilty.

Stolen from a store?

Guilty.

Been fired from a job?

Innocent.

Done something you regret?

Guilty.

Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?

Guilty.

Sat on a roof top?

Guilty.

Kissed someone you shouldn't have?

Guilty.

Sang in the shower?

Guilty.

Been on the best website for cool facebook stuff - facebookcraze.com?

Innocent.

Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?

Guilty.

Shaved your head?

Innocent.

Slept naked?

Guilty.

Had a gym membership?

Guilty.

Made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

Innocent.

Been in a band?

Guilty.

Donated Blood?

Innocent.

Still love someone you shouldn't?

Guilty.

Have a tattoo?

Innocent.

Liked someone, but will never tell who?

Guilty.

Been too honest?

Guilty.

Ruined a surprise?

Guilty.

Erased someone in your friends list?

Guilty.

Dressed in a woman's clothes (if your a guy) or man's clothes (if your agirl)?

Guilty.

Had communication with your ex?

Guilty.

Got so angry that you cried?

Guilty.

Stolen somebodies partner?

Innocent.

Made yourself throw up?

Guilty.

Wanted to be someone else?

Guilty.

2010-09-14T21:53:00.002+08:00

Every night, I continue a dream.The morning after, I continue reality. When once, my dream broke me, I stopped living my dream every night. The morning after, I woke up broken. Then, I stopped living reality in daylight. Consequently, I'm now continuing a dream in slippers, and recounting reality in bed..

2010-09-14T21:45:00.002+08:00

The way I imagined it all everynight, the same it happens to me eveyday...Now I have proven, the power of my mind..

The Pumpkin Dream

2010-05-27T11:15:00.003+08:00

To see a pumpkin in your dream implies openness and receptiveness to new ideas and experiences. A pumpkin is also symbolic of the female sexuality. Alternately, it may relate to the popular fairy tale of Cinderella where a carriage turns back into a pumpkin. In this regard, it may represent some situation in which time is running out.

The comfort room was indeed a comfort for my vanity and me. I went in and out of every restroom found in the campus as often as was possible. I looked through each wide mirror and saw myself, my make-up getting smudgy again. For numerous times I couldn’t even count, I retouched. I fixed my coif and outfit; sprayed my perfume excessively that I wrinkled my nose from the strong scent, to make sure it’ll linger in every corridor I walked. Then, I flashed my most alluring smile at the beautiful reflection.

As I walked through the hallway, a meddlesome pack of rowdy boys kept on making noise and hooting like wild monkeys.

“Woah, Nell’s coming!”

“Hurry, here she comes!”

“Sexy chick . . . Whew!”

“Yeah, dude!”

“Man, smells so sweet!”

I strut my walk, swayed my hips, my intoxicating fragrance oozing for them to inhale and bewilder their masculine imaginations. They followed me, intentionally bumping into each other, though pretending otherwise as if our meeting was just mere coincidence. However, my vanity and I knows better. I flirted like a butterfly finding its mate. Instinctively, my Pheromones were enough to entice these sexual swarms into the cavities of my hive, or were I the one victimized by circumstances?

After school hours, I waited for Uncle Ton to fetch me. On his motor scooter, we rode the streets, and again, by some unfortunate turn of events, I encountered the jeering rascals I have mentioned before.

“Nell!”

It was my cousin Claire, who called. She was with those raucous men. I didn’t know she’s acquainted with the monkeys. It’s kinda weird, but from this distance, I think I heard someone from the group asked her, “Is she already married? That her husband?”

Pish. Do I look like a jade to them already? They’re unbelievable—considering how pretty I look! Of course, I’m not ashamed to say that in the least. It is a fact.

“No! That’s not her husband, it’s our Uncle.”

Uncle Ton dropped me then and there. Claire approached me, and following her was a man I fairly recognized.

“Nell, this is Klein. “

“Oh, hi!” I remember him way back in college. He was Claire’s classmate and was 3 years my senior.

“He wants to talk with you. Something he needs to tell you.”

By that, Klein shyly smiled, but still managed to look at me straight in the eyes with rather sincere intentions. We led ourselves into an amusement park. By the entrance was my mother. She was smiling as if knowing who Klein was and his purpose with me, though they haven’t even met yet. Throughout the time we were with Claire, she nagged Klein nonstop to tell me whatever it was he needed to tell me.

“Not now, we’ll save it later.”

Ah! He wanted to speak with me in private, which I found very flattering—a man saving his words just for me—and only for me!

“Woah! Pumpkin trees?!” I was totally amazed when we passed by a row of Pumpkin trees.

“Looks like it, and real Pumpkin trees, I guess,” he was amazed just the same.

“Oh My! Klein, the pumpkins have faces!” I pointed at the huge trees with large orange gourds hanging on each bough.

“Hah! Like Jack-O-Lanterns . . . Aww! What the—”

Before I could turn to him, a hard thing hit me, “Ouch!” To my astonishment, the Pumpkins were hurling themselves at Klein and me.

“Ow! Don’t worry, Nell! I can handle these feisty Jack-O-Lanterns! Hehe,” he smiled at the possible heroic deed. Whilst Klein was trying to protect me by willingly catching every Pumpkin that fell, I did my best to avoid them. I didn’t need to bother myself of catching those crazy bigger-than-my-head Jack-O-Lanterns. As the hurling Pumpkins took pleasure in exhausting our energies, both of us enjoyed the magical weirdness of that afternoon.

A certain game at the amusement park caught my cousin’s attention. She busied herself together with the gamekeeper, and whatever the game was, I had no idea.

Klein grinned. We felt a surge of hope and excitement. We couldn’t wait to flee from my cousin’s company and finally have our lone time together.

“Claire, Nell and I’ll be strolling around. Are you coming with us?”

“I’m okay here . . . I’ll see you two later.”

“So, shall we go?”

I nodded in accord. We were in a merry mood, everything felt warm, light and carefree. Neither of us was too frugal of smiles and laughs—a cheerful pair of youth. Later, we stopped by an area for restaurants, UK’s, cafes, souvenir shops, and other business stalls. We found a nice café to have some snack, and on a small roundtable for two, we sat facing each other.

“You’re really funny, Nell. You never change.”

“Funny or crazy?”

“A doze of both, maybe.”

I laughed, “Or too much of the latter?” I puckered and puffed my cheeks like a fish.

“That’s cute, Nelly.”

“Ooh, you find being crazy cute, eh? That’s dangerous. Tsk tsk!”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re risking yourself to the hazard of a potential contagion.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You might get it, too, you know.”

Klein laughed at my childlike logic. “I trained once in a psychiatric ward, Nell. Obviously, I’m still sane, am I not?”

“I’m not your typical psycho patient, sir.”

“Of course, you’re not. Actually, you’re—should I say worse? Or better?”

I frowned.

“You’re waaaay better. They’re not as pretty, as smart and as funny as you.”

I beamed. He winked at the reaction.

“But . . .”

Now, I glowered, “Yes?”

“But . . . you’re worse in a special way.”

I tossed my head on the side.

“Your craziness gets me hooked, and I feel like I would want to bear with you for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, talks,” I beamed again.

“I’m being honest here, I’m not just flattering you.”

“Ha-ha! I appreciate the compliment, sir . . . So, how’s life by the way?”

“I’m working in a hospital in the city. A little busy, and I’m doing night shift lately. I’m fine with my current job, but not as fun as being in school.”

“That’s also why I’m still stuck with our dear Alma Mater . . . can’t get enough of Mr. President, FMS, you see.”

He chuckled, “Mr. President, FMS, huh? Have you been rummaging his office lately?”

“Oh. No! I wouldn’t ever dare do that! I’m only a Hallway Celebrity!” I posed for an imaginary photo shoot.

“Ha-ha! I can still remember you were that bubbly, charming young woman at school, either always deep in lively conversations with people, or running through the hallways greeting and waving at familiar faces—or whomever you encounter.”

“Weh? That’s a lie! Was I that disruptive to classes?”

He chuckled, “You were quite amusing.”

“What can I do, maybe I’ll always be a child.”

“A child at heart, huh? Very adorable.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Aye, Nell . . . and that’s why I like you.”

I went speechless. Stunned, I stared at him in disbelief.

“I have always liked you, Nell.”

A little smile curved my lips. “Klein!” in vain, I tried to deny what I’ve just heard.

“I find you pretty and very interesting.”

“You do?” I asked half-pleased, half-mockingly.

He nodded, “I do. Nell, and I want to know you better.”

To know me better. What good is there to know about me? He is sincerely asking for it. I now he sees something in me I never saw myself, and of which I always feared to discover.

“. . . and how it is to be with your company.”

I could only smile.

“People say that love is in the air. Until now, I’m still breathing. Yet I’m still single.” Sighs.

The beautiful face in the mirror looked weary. Her eyes may be in colorful shades, her full red lips parted, her cheeks rouged to blush like a shy little girl of seven, but the hollows of her eyes defied the theatrical appearance she tried to portray.

“Maybe they’ll look good in violet contacts. I should get a pair one day.”

Vanity and I left our “comfort” room and made our way to the busy hallway, my Halliwood Walk of Fame, as what I personally call it.

“Nell Honey!”

“Honey Bee! I missed you so much!” we kissed each other’s cheeks. Her name’s Beryl, my beautiful and ever loyal bff. Our friendship started during our first year in college, we were classmates and we never expected we’d be this close after just a year. I was the playful youth, and she was the mother-like nymph. If I was Vanity, she was Lust. If I was Avarice, she was Gluttony. The two of us, I would call “The Sin Sisters”. We shared the same values in life: to be beautiful, to be desired, to own, to indulge. But Honey Bee was better a sinner than me, I the worst. In reality, she is always better, and I accept it though bitterly because I know a credible and honest witness to our comparison. The Great Mirror who, like the witch in Snow White, shows to me who truly the fairest is.

I loved Beryl, too much than to stain our friendship with my vulnerability. She understands me when I couldn’t understand myself, and she accepted me despite and in spite of my demented mental state.

“The other girls are in the garden, they miss you!” she held my hands and led me to where our friends are. As was usual, we had our bonding session in the garden; sharing about the latest news on our daily romances, family issues, beauty secrets, and all those juicy gossips about other people.

“He asked me out! How about you, Nell?’

“Huh, me? Duh, I’d rather be with you guys, than be with them guys!”

“That’s sweet Nelly Honey!”

“Of course Honey Bee. My friends always come first.”

In my head, I recited my favorite friendship lyric:

My Friends comes first. yes, they could still be life's worst.

We would laugh, play silly stuff

But, when my girlfriends get played, I'm gonna slit the player's throat.

When my boyfriends get dumped, I'm gonna run trim out her lashes.

Men won't have me better than my friends,

they are no good, compared to my bestfriends.

Boy, you may have me, but, when worse comes to worst,

My friends comes first!!!

“When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

“Three years ago? Uh—no, I never had one. I never considered those past fling partners to be my boyfriends.”

“But you called them boyfriends, anyway?”

“Fling partners they better be called.”

“You don’t have any plans of looking for a new one soon?”

Darn. I always have. What a stupid question.

“You see, Nell prefers one-night stands and multiple partners.”

“Ha-ha. You got me there, Joan.”

“Better be careful, Nell Honey.”

“Oh, yeah, I never forgot. Don’t worry Beryl. Ha-ha!”

“Why what’s that?”

“For everybody’s knowledge, Nell has a Pledge of Purity. Right, Nell Honey?”

I grinned.

“Wow, we didn’t know staying virgin’s still in. ‘till when d’you intend to keep it, then?”

”Until her 20th birthday.”

They all guffawed at the idea. How can I blame them? They’re all too stupid not to understand the importance of the pledge. Pitiful, they’re already too stained that what they can only do is to mock my difference from them. Except Honey Bee. Though Beryl was one of those “experienced” young women, I never felt any disgust for her. Maybe because we’ve been friends for years now, or because of the fact that she only gives herself to a man she loves, no matter how many they had been. Thus, she earned my respect. Unlike me, I engaged myself to making out with strangers, shamelessly flirting with men and leaving them all hanging in the air at the end. And I thought I was acting the right way all along. I was wrong. I saw myself as something to be desired, to be used, to be eaten away by lust, like a host so to purge out love and affection from her parasites. Like the bloodsucking mosquitoes, who loved to feast on me—literally. Scientifically speaking, my delicious Pheromones and high level of estrogen were actually the culprits as to why the male species or the mosquitoes chose to devour me. Love. Lust. They go hand in hand don’t they? But, whichever, I want them both—fiercely.

“Gawd, you’re near!”

“Yeah, and I couldn’t wait!”

“Say that again, Nell! You think it’s that simple?”

“Hush, Beryl, I’m joking.”

“I thought you’re going to do it with a total stranger?” Joan was the one to ask.

“Yup, either that or—“

“She’ll do it with the man who loves her.” Beryl finished for me.

“But you don’t have a boyfriend.”

Ouch. You need not to say that.

“Don’t worry Nelly Honey. The right guy will come, maybe sooner than you expected.”

“I know Honey Bee. Anyway, I’m not the only one feeling bad of not finding my man yet. I’m sure he’s feeling just as bad as I am of not finding me soon either.”

“He absolutely is!”

I wonder if he really is getting impatient of not meeting me yet. Then, I also wonder if “he” really does exist for me.

“Excuse me.” I headed for the comfort room for another vanity check. I looked through each wide mirror and saw myself, my make-up getting smudgy again. For numerous times I couldn’t even count, I retouched. I fixed my coif and outfit; sprayed my perfume excessively that I wrinkled my nose from the strong scent, so to let it linger in the air as I pass by. Then, I flashed my most alluring smile at the beautiful reflection.

“People say that love is in the air. No wonder I’m suffocating, like inhaling carbon dioxide instead of oxygen. Maybe that’s why I’m still single, I have to experience love the other way around.”

Cinderella, Cinderella. Lucky you, you rode a beautiful carriage made of pumpkin, and still found your prince charming. Nelly, Nelly. Pumpkins are already hurling themselves at you, isn’t that demanding? Good thing he's there to catch those crazy Jack-O-Lanterns for you.

Bah! Fairy tale talks. I am already a woman in physique, yet a child still at heart...

And that’s why I like you, Nell.

I could only smile.

Life Notes V

2010-05-22T18:06:00.002+08:00

No one. Not anybody or a somebody can tell me what is best for me. I choose to be happy. I choose to live. I choose to create my own existence. I choose to be the person I want to be. I choose to make things happen.

On my own. By my capabilities. With integrity, composure, and dignity. God trusted me with wisdom.

I am divine. I am sprung from the Almighty Creator.

grAvity: Seek the Sublime

2010-05-09T14:34:00.000+08:00

grAvity: Seek the Sublime

Seek the Sublime

2010-05-09T14:28:00.002+08:00

I see my soul.

I, Aurora Celaestis, The Heavenly Light,

Beautiful and Magnificent,

Devoid of any vicious blight.

I see my future.

Clear as a Diamond crystal.

Sturdy as the hardest Stone.

The future lies ahead of me,

Vivid, certain, and strong.

No stopping, ever pursuing,

It's my destiny, my life.

To soar with fervent zeal,

Try, fail, and try once more

Failure is my twin.

Success my shadow.

After every darkness or shade,

To fail, maybe.

After every light in space,

To succeed, I see.

No stopping ever pursuing,

I am my destiny, my life.

The universe is my entity,

Perfect and grand.

Tomorrow is infinity.

Seek the sublime.

Prologue to My New Novel

2010-03-22T00:13:00.003+08:00

Prologue

My name is Fleur. I’m an orphan, so I don’t have any surname to attach my first name with. I live in Tarragona, Davao Oriental, a small municipality by the coast surrounded by dense forests, meadows and pastures, and coconuts areas. The townspeople including the parishioners and my church-mates would only acquaint me as Fleur of Tarragona to people outside of our municipality.

I reside within the compounds of San Pedro Claver’s Parish, under the care of two parishioners Miss Emma and her husband, Brother Noel. They never had a child but they were very kind to raise the four of us ― me, Sheddoné, Dan and Sebastien—altogether parentless since childhood.

In exchange to their kindheartedness, the four of us decided to serve in church and in the community. Dan and Sheddoné served during the mass and home visitations. Sebastien’s considered as the most outstanding of us four, not because he’s the eldest, but also because he's the most active and efficient in community and church activities. Sebastien’s remarkably knowledgeable on the subject of religion and philosophy—in which I’m very poor at! Since my potentials could undeniably not equal theirs, I’m better off cleaning around San Pedro’s compound . . . like a janitress.

Other than being an all-around janitress of San Pedro Claver’s Parish, I’m also a senior in Tarragona Public High. Even with my academics, I never pass for the honor roll . . . nor have I joined any extra-curricular activity . . . ever.

An average girl, you may call me . . . err . . . perhaps a little bit below the average . . . and please—forget about the physical aspect! Shall we just stick to the old proverbs: “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” or simply, “Looks can be deceiving.” From thus, I believe that ignorance can never speak a person’s truth; nor judgment based on blind faith. And as for me, the past has long been forgotten, and I know enough about myself, my life and my truth―or so I thought.

The Bell tolled.

“Good morning!”

I greet the chirping Maya birds outside my window . . . and as always, unsurprisingly, my greeting sent the windows to bolt out open again.

Creativity + Bipolar Disorder

2010-03-21T23:29:00.005+08:00

What has Bipolar disorder got to do with creativity?

I've read in many articles that many great artists and writers are bipolar or are speculated to be bipolar by psychiatrists.

Heightened creativity usually happens during mania. I guess that's a good reason, since it's a time of hyperactivity, elated self-esteem, impulsiveness, over optimism, imagination runs high and so it might result to a person doing his bests and making the most of his talent and skill.

I am one good example. The last time I posted in my blog was two months ago. And now, expect me to have more than three posts just this day. I haven't continued my on-going novel for almost 3 months, and now i'm continuing it again. I haven't draw for almost a year, now I'm thinking of doing it again and imagining a lot more than ever! I'm sleepless nowadays because of indulging myself in these productive activities.

Some of the well-known creative people who are and might be bipolar:

My idols: Marylin Monroe, Britney Spears, Emily Dickinson, Vincent Van Gogh, Michaelangelo, Kurt Cobain, Ozzy Osbourne, Edgar Allan Poe, Axl Rose

And many other!!!!

Someday, I'll be one of the long list of creative minds with bipolar disorder. You'll see my name in many articles, Wikipedia, and other books. Haha

Yours truly,

Mistress Gaga

A Cycle of Mania and Depression

2010-03-21T21:47:00.009+08:00

Today, I want to be my own doctor. what kind of doctor? Hmm...Maybe a Psychologist or better, a Psychiatrist. Supposing I took a course on psychiatric medicine and is now diagnosing a patient. And who's the patient? Me, of course! Who else but me! Me! Me! Me! My dear me! I am Dr. KMLC diagnosing a patient named KMLC for Bipolar Disorder.

Bipolar Disorder? What's that? Is it some disease I get from going to different polar regions around the globe? Is it a virus I've acquired during a stay in North Pole? South Pole maybe? Nah, I haven't even got the chance to fly out of my country. Thanks to the internet, I have gathered facts about Bipolar Disorder. Ah, by the way, how'd I new about the term? It's complicated and stupid, and got my ass kicked by sexy cupid. I guess he wants to play. Play with my mood, personality and life. Oh, cupid, my dear. I'm not referring to love cupid, it's you pleasure! it's that pleasure I get when I'm happy, and the sorrow I get if I do not have you! It's that. The complication started somewhere during my high school years. I had a strange gut feeling about what's going on with my thoughts and actions. But the truth is, I read about it in a magazine....Home and Living Journal???...Whatever..So, there, BIPOLAR DISEASE..MOOD SWINGS...MANIC-DEPRESSIVE DISORDER...and blah blah...Since i was a reader, and i just love psychology, I skimmed through the pages and found out (Gasps), I am Bipolar! Then, I read in other resources, the best would be my Encyclopedias. And others.

From this URL http://ask.doctoroz.com/question/who-can-develop-bipolar-disorder

Bipolar disorder is a term that describes a major psychiatric problem with one's capacity to maintain a normal and stable mood. This term was in the past only used exclusively to describe those individuals whose problem with moodiness met a strict criterion - that is, they had to experience a major depressed mood for at least two weeks in duration alternating with episodes of abnormally high moods, called mania. Today, the term bipolar disorder is now frequently used to include those individuals who have irritability, and impulsive angry outbursts in addition to depression.

Symptoms:

During manic periods, people with bipolar disorder may:

Be overly happy, hopeful, and excited
Change suddenly from being joyful to being angry and hostile
Behave in strange ways
Become restless
Talk rapidly
Have a lot of energy and need very little sleep
Believe they have many skills and powers and can do anything
Make grand plans
Show poor judgment and make impulsive, harmful decisions
Become headstrong, annoying, or demanding
Become easily distracted
Abuse drugs and alcohol
Have a much higher sex drive

During depressive periods, they may:

Feel empty, sad, or hopeless
Feel guilty, worthless, or helpless
Cry often
Lose interest in things they usually enjoy, including sex
Be unable to think clearly, make decisions, or remember things
Sleep poorly
Lose or gain weight
Have low energy
Abuse drugs and alcohol
Complain of headaches, stomach aches, and other pains
Become focused on death
Attempt suicide

Anyone can develop bipolar disorder, including children and teens. However, most people with bipolar disorder develop it in their late teen or early adult years. The illness usually lasts a lifetime.

(I hate this statement...A lifetime???? Gawd!!!)

See there, the criteria fits me so well! Almost perfectly! And to add, my mood swings sometimes interchange every other day.

I'm really thankful of my manic episodes, because those are the times of my great productivity. I write a lot, dream a lot, draw a lot, read a lot, talk a lot, and do a lot!!! it's my creativity to the fullest or slight. It's when I feel like nothing will go wrong, I don't care about obstacles, like "Come on baby! I ain't scared of ya!" "Alright! I can do this!" "Yeah, I will be the greatest cartoonist in the world! I will change the world! My name will soon be written in the encyclopedias! No dream is to far, it's in my hands!" Duh, super, I don't get enough sleep because of hyperactivity. And I'm easily angered, i bust out, exploding all the cuss words I know, even facing the person or the thing and cuss at them! And still, I don't care whatever happens after. Then, I forgot about it and proceed to my hobby and other grand plans.

Then, all of a sudden, my glittering hard-as-steel world shrinks into soft and limp veggies. Ah, another extreme cycle of depression. I felt like, "Gawd! I'm so stupid, so ugly, so worthless, so yucky, so dumb and stupid (did i mention it already?), so crazy, so unlovable, so damn my soul to hell! I hate this fucking life! I hate that homosexual-looking person in the mirror! Those ugly teeth, 1-liter coca cola body, drum-like belly, tomboyish attitude, slow pick-up neurons, and everything! Fuck this motherfucking shit! Whew, that was fun to read aloud! But no, 'cuz I'm in a manic mood today, I'm calling myself a gorgeous goddess, I am fabulous, sexy, sophisticated, intelligent (Who else could write lie this? You, moron? No. Me, only me), I can do whatever I want, I don't care about you and your opinion of me. keep it to yourself 'cuz I don't give a damn about it. I am great and forever will be. You will look up at me 'cuz I know I'm tall and my stance's so cool. Can you argue more?

Okay, I am in my depressed episode. I hurt myself, mutilate myself, bang my head on the wall, slap myself so hard in front of the mirror until my cheek turns scarlet, and laugh at myself while crying. I would put on outrageous make up and talk to myself in different voices and expressions in the mirror and tell myself how fucked up my life is, and how messed up I will be forever. I would advise myself to stay calm and strong, or the other would advise me to cut (again) my wrist, hit myself again and commit suicide. Oh, this isn't bipolar anymore...I think I'm now talking about my multiple personality. Anyway, they may be related to one another. What, am I bipolar with multiple personality? Great! I'll talk about that issue in another post.

This is the reason people would describe me "Funny, hyper, UNIQUE, moody, different, and the list goes on...." They tell me I'm different, weird, impulsive and unpredictable. Of course, even I couldn't predict when my cycle changes. I haven;'t really opened this up to many,. and to those whom I've shared this issue with, they brush it off telling me, you're normal..just different. It's not serious. Well, I say it is. If attempting suicide a serious problem for them, why not mine? It's much more than desiring to kill myself.

Until now, i still don't have any idea how i became this. What's the cause and what triggers my episodes. it just happen on its own, without warning. I just feel it one day, and woke up feeling the other the next day.

So that's about me. i have lots of experiences that would consider me crazy. But I'm not. I'm just Bipolar with multiple personalities. This is a serious disease they say, but while i'm in my Manic episode, it doesn't bother me. When i'm depressed, it does bother me a lot. The hell, it's ruining my life and relationships! Si today, I'm happy! I hope tomorrow will stay the same. No more cycles, please? It's difficult, I might be dead the morning after. So please have mercy on me sexy cupid!

I'm going gaga over this. :)

Yours truly,

Mistress Gaga

Aurora Caelestis

2010-03-21T12:15:00.000+08:00

I am Aurora Caelestis. I am the brightest light in all of heavens and universe. I am the light, the hope, the dream, and the life. Look up at me with awe, but better avert your gaze if you mean to lay your dirty eyes on me. I will blind you, filth!

I'm an ascaris bookworm

2010-01-11T02:59:00.003+08:00

I've got lots of books...I buy books everytime..but each time I visit a bookstore, I can't find something great to read..No more historical novels, no more tragic love stories, no more to make me dreamy and ecstatic...Well, there are some on the shelves, but not as interesting as those I've read years ago..I'm also looking for some titles I know I wouldn't find in this small city..But I'm still hoping if not hopeful! Since I've got nothing else to read, I'm into movies now...Can anybody lend me books?? Or We'll just have a trade, then, to be fair..hahaha...

On literary criticism...I used to be good in critiquing literary pieces, but I'm very frustrated about a course I'm taking up now (Literary Criticism).

I think I'm losing my skill! Waah! Somebody save me! first, I was very good with comics, but later lost the talent. Then, I became a writer (a novelist, to be specific) but the craft is slowly ebbing away from my system! Guess what? My mouth is becoming a monster! eventually, it would numb my beautiful talented hands, and would rule over my life. Let's try to asses: I'm enjoying debates and talks nowadays, I'm doing student teaching, I frequently become the root of arguments, because of my bad mouth I tore relationships, and because of this mouth I spill everything!

Going back to books...

I need to read more! I'm hungry...I'm thirsty...

In Other Words

2009-12-21T19:25:00.007+08:00

Wahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!! Akala niyo kayo lang ang me bagong post ha?? Wahahahaha! Ako din! Eto o.....

"Fools live to regret their words, wise men to regret their silence."
-William Henry

To begin with, allow me to introduce myself. I am D3*67 Mistress Gaga, from the Poka race in the farthest region of the planet Badmouth, located in the Andromeda galaxy. It is a great opportunity for me to able to meet the Human race of the planet Earth, to mingle with these kind and beautiful people.

They have befriended me, welcomed me warmly to their place. And I, with all my heart accepted their invitation. However differences will always be differences.

It is really difficult to cope up with the changing and strange happenings I've experienced here on Earth. Despite the happy memories I had with Humanity, there was a backlash to my being an alien. My culture is far way different than them. My personality which was richly nurtured from my own people, the Pokans, became disastrous when I decided to cohabit with the Humans for a little longer.

Back home, my race was blessed with the gift of the gab, we were extraordinarily best in our facility of language. Communication was never a problem for us. It was always our tradition to use our voices, the greatest gifts from the Most Intelligent Being. It is considered a taboo to refrain from talking, however for morality's sake, none was allowed to speak lies, but only the truth. We were always honest and frank of our doings and feelings, making it a lot more easier to converse, heal, learn, and be informed.

The word speechless is never found in our dictionary, so when I get to study a language subject on Earth, I was flabbergasted when a classmate replied, "I'm speechless" when the teacher threw a question. Another phrase I would never forget from hearing my Human friends talk is, "No comment!" The Pokans would either kick me in the shin or slap me thrice if I won't say anything when I am asked, though it had never happened and it never will.

Words can either hurt or heal. It's true, but at the endpoint of every thing that has been said, words are still the best healer. When we're hurt just a comfort of a friend's little words lightens, when we need assurance, a simple OK suffices. So being hurt is just a part of the process of healing. Let me remind you that hurt is temporary, if you've been hurt by barbed words, take it easy, it's not intended to kill you in an instant. Like barbed wires, barbed words are meant to warn you. It means caution.

Speaking the truth is just as important as breathing fresh air. It was a culture I've acquired from my people to never take back what you've said. Your words are the language not just of your mind but of your emotion and your soul. We are not afraid to speak, because we know, we are talking only of the truth, and are concern of only the truth.

It was also odd for Humans to take in deeply the words said, as if each and every letter in their alphabet was toxic that it needs care in handling when spilled. They believe in regret, especially in saying something bad. Human Beings are so inclined into saying good things, whether it's the truth or what they so-call white lie. You had to be careful not to say something bad, for it may hurt the person, even if you think it's the truth. On the other hand, Pokans talk like there's no tomorrow, they talk as if every second is precious. So whatever comes out from their mouths are really what they think, feel and believe...in that moment.

I told a story yesterday, and I surprised you today with a contradicting story, so don't be shocked to hear me talk another different story tomorrow...that's how we are. That's how Mistress Gaga is.

However I talk, I only speak the truth, of what I see or hear is true, of what I believe and prove to be true. Opportunities, words, and time are three things you can never take back. I take responsibility of the consequences of spending each one, in any way, and I have no regrets.

Love me or hate me...

Yours truly,

..........Mistress Gaga

Wahahahahaha...may new post na ako! Wahahahaha!

I am different from you..I am who i am..I am the person you do not know and will never know...For I am someone without identity..I show my reaL seLf to the worLd..Yet the reaLity which is hidden from everyone who stares at me..They see the different...They see the unreaL...They see not me but the one they expect to be me..I taLk a Lot..But i speak onLy one thing..Yet peopLe hear different meanings..But i dont know if there's anyone who Listens carefuLLy..I move careLessLy and with no direction...and no one should care..I am free and happy...Though my Life can't bear...Is what you see in me reaL or fake??Am i HAppy or is it my facade?Think whatever..No one is perfect..Don't brand me somebody...Nor expect anything from me...

..I am the CHANGE that forever will be UNCHANGED..

The Cloudwatchers

2009-10-22T15:18:00.002+08:00

He’s gone.

I keep repeating to myself the painful truth that my best buddy will never be able to sit with me for another guy talk that last for a whole day—ever again. It upsets me that he haven’t sent me mails or made a call since last year. But, just a week ago, I had—what I never thought would be—the last chance to meet him. I saw Lawrence, at the early age of twenty-two, cold and lifeless—on his funeral.

I walk along the pavement of the town plaza like a zombie—without spirit—without emotion, while munching peanuts and having deep thoughts.

It didn’t bother me if people see me like this and think I’m crazy. Anyway, they don’t have any idea what happened to me or the pain and sadness I am into now for losing a good friend.

What I need to know now is: why did they leave this early? And for what purpose do God intend for also ending his life? I sit myself on a wooden bench, look up at the puffy clouds, and search for the stupid answers.

“Look! There’s a nice spot!”

We all looked at Jasmine’s direction. She was pointing to a huge boulder of rock at the other side of the hill. We all beamed. We finally found our “new territory”. The five of us—Esther, Jasmine, Kirk, Lawrence and I, sat on the grass beside the boulder. Then, everybody fell silent . . . they were, like me, gazing at the clouds—hypnotized by its leisurely movement.

“Whoa! An angel!” Esther exclaimed when she noticed a clump of clouds formed into a figure.

“No, it’s a phoenix, stupid,” said Kirk.

“Hey, it’s changing into a—a warrior with a sword and . . . a shield! You see, his wings transformed into them!”

“Over there guys! It’s a huge hand with one elongated finger!” Esther said again.

“Yeah . . . it’s pointed at the warrior.”

We spent the whole afternoon just watching and making up stories out of the figures of the clouds. The following day we met at the same spot, and again watched the clouds. Then, every day we did the same.

It was until one afternoon when our group of five was lessen by one. Esther didn’t come to our new territory, and the next, then the next. We became worried at the same time curious. What could have happened to her? So, we decided to visit her home and found out that she had accidentally cut her pinky with a knife while slicing onions. She was too embarrassed to see us that even after persuading her to come play with us again, she wouldn’t. However, after days of pressing her, she finally did.

As always, we watched the clouds, drew figures and made up stories. This time, we gave a solo time for each to tell his own story, with no interruptions supposed to be, but I guess we’ll never change. Ha-ha. The first was Lawrence, pointing to the sky, he began, “hmm . . . Once, there was a huuuge spaceship! And suddenly it came across a horrible alien monster!”

“Hahaha . . . That doesn’t resemble an alien monster . . .”

“Shut up Esther, it does for me ok? Anyway, here’s the story: the spaceship came from a faaaraway planet looking for a nice place to land and rest. But, on their way, a gigantic scary-looking alien monster in a form of . . . an asteroid—teehee, the cloud’s transforming, you see—and they shoot at him!—wait . . . the spaceship’s disintegrating—oh! The monster was too powerful that he crushed the spaceship in just one blow . . . then BANG! End . . .”

“Nah, poor story . . . now here’s mine. Listen,” it was Jasmine. Before she began, she smiled and winked at me. “Look at the clump of clouds just above Lawrence’ poor spaceship. Can you see a—cake? That cake is a very magical pastry, don’t you know? It never runs out . . . And it tastes sooo yummy that you can live forever with just only that! There are chocolates, candies, marshmallows, butter, cookies, jellies, and blah blah toppings and fillings. The icing’s very creamy, too . . .”

I looked at her ogling round eyes as she spoke with passion. I felt pity for her because it had always been her wish to have a beautiful cake on her birthdays, but she had quite the contrary. Even after she spoke, she looked so sad.

Then Kirk interrupted with his usual unusual stories, “Ahem . . . Ladies and gents, I welcome you to another story of the Silly Mango Vendor of Purok 2-A. It was after a hard day’s work in the market selling green mangoes. He packed all his stuff, including his cell phone and pushed his cart home. While he was walking, a fast car nearly ran his tattered cart—”

“W-w-wait . . . can you please point to us the clump of clouds your making your story about?”

“Oh . . . yeah—well . . . alright! I’ll change it! It’s about that cloud—looking like a sheep . . . so now, the sheep loved to dance—and oh—he dances Wowowee’s hits and he wanted to be a real man and to live in the city. So, one day he went to the city and shaved off his wool. Guess what happened next? He wore a poodle-hair wig! He joined Wowowee and went on meee-meee-meee all the way ‘till he died of a cold!”

Next was Esther. She made up a story of the three figures in the sky. There were two taller figures and between them was something smaller. The three were connected by thin wisps of clouds on their middle. Esther interpreted them a family. The clouds looked like they were dancing so she said that they were very happy. “But, one day, the father left his family. He said he’ll buy pizza but he never came back . . .”

“Did he die?”

“Hmm . . . maybe . . .”

“No way, he just bought some pizza; he might be taken by the pizza goblins or that sort of weird stuffs . . .”

“It’s your turn now.” They all looked at me. Mine was nothing cool or exciting, I’m really bad at story-telling and interpretations. It was just about a dog missing and finding his loving owner after losing his way in the streets.

And it was all just memories. Unmoving, I blankly stare at the clouds. Where could they be now? It had been years since we saw each other—the complete five—six years before Esther doomed herself by straying through worldly pleasures of sin. How could we, her only friends, have abandoned her at those times when we knew of her parents’ separation? Then, it was Kirk who made a scandal in college by allegedly beating a teacher out of anger. But, I believe that the teacher does deserve it. To quote Kirk’s description of that teacher, “he’s a screwed up demon hog, and he’s too bald, smelly, stingy, and foul for a professional.”

Aside from that scandal several years ago, I never heard of anything else from him until now. Once, a rumor reached me. He strangely dropped out of college and left the town. He was heard laughing and whistling noisily in the streets one evening, disturbing the sleeping neighbors, and throwing stones at the gates of some houses. He was merrily telling everybody that he’s leaving that forlorn town, that he was on his way to find a big profit business, and buy a luxurious doghouse for his pit-bull and find a six-foot tall international model for a wife.

Another rumor says he was stabbed to death in a brawl one evening in another town. He was exchanging sarcastic jokes with a hot-tempered man in a bar, which later ended into a bloody fight. If the rumors were true, that leaves me, Lawrence and Jasmine in our supposed-to-be five-man friendship.

One year ago, after Lawrence get to board on plane, I lost contact with him the next few months. And just this year, his hopes of piloting a plane died with him on a crash. And Jasmine? She went to work abroad two years ago. I’m hoping she stays safe. I’m glad she frequently emails me, that’s how I get to know her status every now and then. She promised to go home this December; I’m looking forward to it.

“You’re all red Jasmine!” they teased her.

“I’m not!”

“What did you see in the clouds? C’mon tell us!”

She glanced at me briefly, and then looked down. What’s with her? She was about to tell her story when she grimaced and blushed so red and wouldn’t continue. We all looked puzzled, that we gazed to the clouds and tried to find what made her uneasy. From east to west, west to east, south to north, and north to south I glanced. Then, something caught my sight. Something you can never see by scanning each and every clump or wisp of cloud. You had to look at the vast sky as a whole, by then, you could see the two distinctive figures distractingly entwined to each other. They looked like giants, united, falling down to earth. Then, I understood why she blushed to that image. Haha . . .

“Nice image you drawn from the clouds! Interesting,” I said to her, flashing my most mischievous grin. Her eyes widened and she ran away.

When it was my turn to speak, I hesitated for it would be another boring story, plus I am still distracted by huge image of the clouds. The others never discovered what the both of us—Jasmine and I—saw that day. I laughed to myself, we had our secret.

Watching the clouds, I still can’t find the stupid answers. There’s no peanut left.

The clouds . . . the clouds . . . what’s with the clouds? We loved to watch it . . . we always watched it. And my friends, they’re all gone now—leaving me and Jasmine. This is crazy—no—that’s stupid! That’s not the answers I’m looking for. But . . . it seems it is . . . the stupid answer that I actually don’t want to take. . . I don’t know if I should believe such weird thing, but . . . was it God who formed those clouds those days? Then, ignorant and innocent as we were, made up stories from it which unknowingly was our—reality.

They died out of child’s play. We weaved our own fate, and the clouds were too cruel to deceive our innocent minds. Today, I still mourn of a great loss—my best bud Lawrence. Our circle of five is now reduced to two. But despite the ill-fate of our friendship, my boring life, and, though I can still read the subconscious ache of her discontented childhood, I am able to share my life with the woman I have always loved—my Jasmine.

Then again, I can’t help but let myself be taken away by the mystery of the clouds. Now, I get to see a piece of the whole picture. As the clouds move, divide, combine, disintegrate . . . we move with it. And the truth is—me, Jasmine, Lawrence, Kirk and Esther—we all live in the clouds. And despite the distance in place and time, we will always be never too far apart.

Finished

3:37 am

October 14, 2009

The Lotto Dealer

2009-10-08T16:54:00.002+08:00

The bulb on the front door of the house flickered as it tried to light up the middle of the darkening streets. Inside, the television buzzed tirelessly and the dishes and steel clinked as they were being washed clean. The forty-six year old man of the house, Mr. Antonio Dimawili, sat comfortably with one leg elevated on the arm of his favorite couch in front of the television. The couch was moved out from its proper place and was now positioned too close to the TV set. Behind him on a long couch beside the front door sat his twenty-five year old son, Antony. The young man was holding a cell phone on one hand, but both of them were intently concentrating on the war-movie as it reached its climax.

There was a knock on the door. Both men jumped, looking distracted by the sudden interruption.

“Go get the door,” Antonio ordered, waving a hand which held the remote control.

Antony went to the door and turned the knob open.

“Good evening Tony,” a big-busted middle-aged woman greeted him.

“Good evening too, Nang Dorin.”

“Aba! Dorin, come in! Come in!” Antonio’s loud voice echoed inside the tiny town house. His body was now turned to the woman. Antony closed the door behind them when the woman was finally inside. Dorin sat beside the young man on the long couch. She pulled open the zipper of her belt-bag and took out a small notebook, a stub of Lotto receipts and a ball pen.

“Cory!” Antonio called for his daughter who was busy washing dishes in the kitchen.

“Yes Papang?!” she called back. Cory turned off the faucet and wiped her soaped-wet hands

with a clean towel hanging on the refrigerator’s handle. She fixed her shoulder-length hair,

pulled a lock at the back of her ear, and hurried to the living room.

“Yes Papang? What is it?”

“Where’s your Mamang?”

She didn’t answer yet when she saw Dorin sitting beside her older brother. She sighed and pouted her lips in disapproval. She gestured to their backyard, “. . . feeding the dogs outside.”

“Tell her Dorin’s here.”

She rolled her eyes, and scratched her neck, “Okay, Pang.”

Cory went outside to the backyard. She saw her mother pouring food into a worn out gallon-sized empty bucket of ice cream. Flanking her were two white spaniels, with grimy coats you would mistake these mutts as rags. Mrs. Thalia Dimawili's a couple of years younger than her husband. Her hair was tightly pinned into a bun, was slightly skinny, and had an angular and wearied face.

“Nang Dorin’s here, Mamang,” Cory sneered at the name when Thalia bent down quickly to get the empty bowl.

“Oh, Dorin! I almost forgot!” She handed the empty bowl to her daughter then spoke with a pressured tone, “bring this inside the house, dear . . . and don’t forget to lock the backdoor, okay?”

Thalia didn’t wait for a reply, and hurried inside the house. In the living room, Antonio and Dorin were talking about a constant player of Mahjong who just won eighty thousand pesos in the First-Two-Digit Lotto draw last week. Both turned their heads toward Thalia. Dorin spoke in excitement, “Taling, we were just talking about Fe Lamangan! Have you heard about the latest buzz on her?”

“Who? That shrewd Mahjong player at Maurine’s?”

“Yes! Well, I met her kumare while I was walking along Alunan Avenue this afternoon, and she told me that Fe Lamangan won the draw last week . . . Eighty thousand pesos,” Dorin leaned forward as she spoke.

Thalia covered her mouth, and her eyes widened, “No kidding! Eighty thousand?! What were

her numbers?”

“She wagered in the First-Two-Digit Lotto draw, 26 and 18 for two hundred pesos. Luckily, her numbers were drawn that day!”

“Wow, she’s indeed lucky, that gambler of a widow!”

“Hey, Taling, told’ya you should’ve wagered on 26,” Antonio butt in.

“The taga-suma gave me the numbers 06, and 23. The numbers were at least a bit closer to 26,” His wife replied. Her husband just snickered, still focused on the TV screen.

Dorin flipped a page of her lotto receipt stubs. Hastily, Thalia sat between Dorin and Antony. She said, “I think I’ll go with 15-41 and 02-37, thirty pesos for each, First-Two. And . . . 08 for fifty pesos, Last-Two.”

Antonio added, “11 and 14 for fifty pesos each, that’s for Last-Two-Digit draw.”

The Lotto dealer wrote down Antonio and Thalia’s numbers on one receipt.

“Okay, that’s all. Can I pay you tomorrow?” said Thalia.

“Uh—sure, but you still got a balance of two hundred fifty pesos, though— ”

“I’ll also pay you that tomorrow, don’t worry Dorin,” Thalia said, a little annoyed by the reminder of her debt. Dorin slid her things back inside her belt-bag, “I’ll just bring these in the Lotto outlet in KCC tomorrow. Well then, I’ll be going.”

Both of the women stood up, then Dorin bade them goodbye. Antonio turned to her and did the same. When she was finally gone, Thalia sat beside her son on the long couch. Cory came to join the rest of her family in the living room, and then told her mother she needed three hundred pesos to pay to a school organization tomorrow.

“Your Papang gave you five hundred pesos last week. Don’t tell me you spent them all?” Mrs. Dimawili said.

“Huh! That was really intended for that week only!” Cory argued. The men were just silent, still focused on the movie they’re watching.

“Listen Cory, I only have five hundred pesos left in my wallet, and I can give you three-fifths of it if you’d want a hunger strike for the next seven days.”

Cory groaned. “Fine. I understand that that big-busted parasite will be sucking your wallet again tomorrow . . . C’mon, when was the last time you ever won? Ten years ago?” she paused to heave a sigh, “Sweet dreams!” She turned away and went to her room. Mrs. Dimawili raised both hands and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

The movie was finally at its end, so Antonio spoke, “Ah, it’s finished. Shall we check what’s drawn in the Lotto tonight?” He changed the channel.

The lotto show has already started. Antonio and Thalia Dimawili were silent as they waited for the 45-ball jackpot draw to begin. Antony yawned beside her and started texting on his cell phone, then after a few boring minutes he went to his bedroom and slept. The jackpot draw was about to begin, where the winning First-Two-Digit and Last-Two-Digit numbers were based. Thalia rubbed her eyes and squinted as she focused on the TV. The balls were now being rambled, and then drawn one by one in respective order. 15—came the first ball.

Thalia gasped, it was hers! If her 41 would be drawn, she’d win almost fifteen thousand pesos. Another ball was drawn—the number . . . 13.

“No! That was so close!” Thalia exclaimed.

“Well, let’s see the Last-Two-Digit draw,” Antonio said.

They waited for the Last-Two-Digit ball to be drawn . . . And the last digit for today’s ramble lotto is . . . the number two-zero. None of their numbers were drawn. Thalia cocked her head back and groaned under her breath, “Ah! What a waste, Antonio! Such a waste I tell you!”

“It seems that luck’s not on our side tonight, Taling. We’ll try again . . . maybe tomorrow— ”

“My number will be drawn next time and we’ll get rich. We’ll start a business and get very rich!”

Antonio didn’t say anything but Thalia continued talking about how she’ll receive the big

amount of money if her numbers would be drawn in the Lotto next time, her future plans for her children and for themselves.

The next day, Dorin visited the Dimawili residence again. Thalia wagered, and this time with a bigger amount of money. Unfortunately, as always, her numbers were not drawn in the Lotto.

When she finally realized the amount her debts to the Lotto dealer had surmounted, she began to panic. She worried how she will be able to pay Dorin since she spent almost the family’s entire budget now. Her husband was dismissed from work a month ago, she couldn’t earn enough to pay for her debts and provide her family’s needs on her own. Thalia thought she couldn’t face Dorin now, she would hide and her family would help her.

“If Dorin ever comes again, tell her I’m out or I had an emergency or anything! Just don’t let her know I’m home, do you understand—both of you?” her teeth clenched in anxiety and fear as she spoke to her children.

The next time Dorin came, the children followed what their mother ordered, until the Lotto dealer was now trying to demand Thalia’s presence and that she should pay her debts.

“Where’s Taling your mother?! I know you’re hiding her somewhere! She has to pay her debts or I’ll call the police!”

“We don’t know Nang Dorin, she never returned since two weeks ago,” Antony lied.

The visits became more frequent, in the morning and in the afternoon, and the Dimawili residence would sometimes lock all their doors and never turned on their lights even at night to avoid people, especially Dorin. Thalia never left the house for the next two months, for fear of being caught by neighbors or worse, by the police.

One cold early morning, the backdoor of the house stood ajar, and the bulb flickered as it dwindled into darkness. The streets snoozed in silence, and only a sound of dripping water echoed within the tiny residence of Mr. Antonio Dimawili.

........................................This was written for a Creative Writing class (LIT 143) during the first semester of my fourth year in college.

Frozen In Bliss III: Neichzebnig

2009-09-17T07:45:00.001+08:00

The faeries sang their sorrow,

The sirens played their fury,

The muses lamented their torment,

The pixies cried their grief.

The land of pleasure and majik, Neichzebnig!

For once it had been an enchanted kingdom of spirits,

Now grace has forsaken thee.

No more than a barren place of forlorn creatures,

No more of the colorful paths of floras to welcome me.

But violets still strive on such harsh enchanted earth,

For a tale of long ago still roam in eternal mystery:

The Grim’s love and the violets;

Vaalkvothura! The continent of great Lords and warriors!

From where The Grim was conceived,

Its soil from where The Grim was nurtured.

And the violets from the kingdom of Neichzebnig

With her greatest love a faerie once planted ‘em,

And with all her heart sent them to faraway places,

And with all her soul embraced each with beautiful memories.

The petals traveled through the invisible tunnels of Neichzebnig,

To the hollow sunken valley at Vaalkvothura’s edge.

There lived The Grim

In solitude,

In madness,

In nothing,

In darkness.

Love and death go together, it was said.

What of violets and The Grim in the tale?

What of love and death?

The tale of long ago of The Grim’s love and the violets,

Mysterious death of the lovely faerie of violets

And the mysterious love of The Grim.

I stand frozen on grassy lands.

At the center of the world here lies

Great power of will and pride.

So long had been my stay,

On so far I’ve come astray

Minds in shattered array

Of old memories and tales.

The Great Lord of Tundr my master,

Has called forth a war to beget peace.

What peace my Lord?

On to this land of wonder and bliss?

For heavens, should I not weep?

For death, should I not fear?

Does hearts of the living count not to the King?

I serve thee by heart, and by the crown hurt returned to me;

Torment crushes me for leaving paradise,

With rues I fled your palace.

My Lord’s beautiful face in wrinkling desperation,

I could not bear to see,

Not a sight of ebony locks

Or that hazel orbs that sees through souls.

Pardon me my dear Lord!

Thy crystal staircases I yearn no more

Or the Mangroves in the snowy alps of Tree Hills invites no more.

Thus swears to forget thy loves ardor!

I rest myself on my poet’s endearments,

Free me from pain and guilt of fleeting passion!

My Lord, my love, and what of you?

My poet, my man or my lover too?

In Neichzebnig my poet been,

Told me stories of the spirits’ plight

Gave me handful of violets in delight!

Ah, he silence me with whispers

With melodious tunes of lovely verses,

Like faeries and muses, sirens and pixies,

A male spirit of beauty lost in the majikal kingdom of Neichzebnig.

And I adore him.

And the owl by his side,

The lips that never cease with sweetest words,

Or caress mine in gentlest way.

My dear poet’s from somewhere he said,

My faith, such could be a lie!

Hear his music not so ordinary,

Flowers dance with him in glee;

For nothing and nowhere and no one alive,

In Vaalkvothura can compare to thee,

In enchanted Neichzebnig could you only be,

With spirits in the land of pleasure, majik, and beauty;

Neichzebnig, the most magnificent place mortal eyes could see.

.

.

.

.

.

--- I MUST BE FREE ---

2009-07-30T08:24:00.006+08:00

...

Everything is fleeting.
Nothing always remains the same.
I hate to say this but I have to say good bye.
I need my space.
I need to see myself.
I need to be happy.
I need to live.
Time is ticking away.
I get older every second that passes.
I don't want to wallow in void and pain.
I'm a person.
I get tired.
I'm already jaded.
Be considerate and understanding.
If I don't need it anymore then let me be.
If I'm not happy anymore then set me free.
If nothing has meaning anymore then so be it.
At the last part both ends would still hurt.
Choices don't count.
Whether be it or be it not.
Decisions do no good when it suffices only one.
And thus both ends should benefit.
With either this or that.
I want this.
I want it gone.
Nothing will never change.
I or it have to change.
One way or another.
I have decided.
It's all said and done.
I must be free.

...

Frozen in Bliss II: Aruka

2009-07-17T10:35:00.002+08:00

Hail! The Great Lord of Tundr!
Hail! No glory could be bought by harassing immodesty of men;
None is rightful of the crown of immortality,
Of wisdom,
Of bravery,
Of holiness, but He!

Music of the Lark, hear such melody;
Oh! Beauty of the dawn!
Do I ever need to listen to the footsteps of the Grim?
The Grim whose soul is black and shrouded by greed;
I could not reveal his despicable truth,
Nor I am able to voice his words;
In Damnation, he rightfully abide,
If truth be told, of contempt for him,
Perchance in purpose or slip of the tongue,
Oh to dreadful torment in perdition is your demise.
The Grim, the legend once told,
The Grim, the Great Warrior from Tundr fought from the Old.

Lo, from the land of the Faraway, sails Aruka the Empress;
The most fair of fairs, a light amidst darkness.
She rode the gigantic ocean dragon, the biggest of its kind,
No sword, no helmet, no shield, no armor;
But wore the finest silk the enchanted kingdom have never seen in time.

"My eyes are those of the eagle,
My fangs are those of the tiger,
But my spirit is that of the enchanted.
Hail me Queen!
Empress of the East!
No wonder will you owe me, your Queen;
I am a wonder by myself,
I can not be made envious, nor be impressed!
The Great Lord of Tundr,
The one who fought all tyrant?
The Lord who's named The Great Warrior from Tundr.
You are King, the Great Lord of Tundr.
I heard the nobleness the heavens have bestowed upon you;
But, pray tell, brave warrior, should I believe such farce?"

Aruka, the golden-eyed lady of the deep;
With followers from her empire of creatures from the deep
Marched along the trail of the enchanted land,
Glided along the invisible tunnel a-float the bed of violets.
The enchanted kingdom of Neichzebnig, a land of spirits
Called upon this beauty, to amaze The Grim.
The Grim who lived in fury, in avarice and in misery;
The evil who brought strife and discord
In the enchanted kingdom of the spirits.
Neichzebnig!
The land of pleasure and majik;
The refuge of faeries and muses,
Of lovely sirens and pixies.

The ground in eternal tremor.
The sky a blurring color.
The waters move in ever restless anger.
A war started in the ancients,
Reincarnated at a time of near absolute peace;
Chill! Frozen by fear!
Come forth the ending of the Gods' selfish game!
For fame, they pursued,
The Great Warriors of the continent of Vaalkvothura:
The Great Lord of Tundr!
Aruka, the Empress of the East!
And the soon coming,
Lohdar the Colossus!
Tjoqqu from the Ocean of Fire! and
The Lady of the Fifth, she, who's vested in the garden of Gyrwin!

With much honor and glory, I mention their names.
Tomorrow and yesterday shall they be remembered.
From this day on, the Gods will weep;
Of strength and courage, these warriors do keep
To vow to death victory and love,
To grieve bedlam, and swear mischief rightful to Hell!

GRAVITY

2009-06-26T13:20:00.003+08:00

.
.
.
......A force of nature,
pull of heavenly bodies
in one energy.......
.
.
.

Travelogue: Tara! Go na! Part I

2009-06-20T22:56:00.019+08:00

I finally bid my farewell to the second semester of school year 2008-2009! How devastated I was! The farewell reminded me that I'll now be spending my last year in college, not just goodbye to my dear alma mater despite my frequent complaints about tuition fee increases, terror teachers, and loads of requirements only to be passed on the same deadlines (But we always pass them an hour or several or a day or a week after the said deadline...hehehe), I'll also be kissing my dearest friends adieu later on!

Now here comes the Holy Week! Me and the people at home always anticipate this date! hahah! Not because of it's religious history, but because we see this a good chance to bond and welcome with enjoyment the incoming summer. For some consecutive summers already, we've been having a trip to places, like the beaches and resorts, parks, restaurants, farms and other amazing places.

Our destination this Summer of 2009 is Tarragona, Davao Oriental! It's actually a small town by the coast in the south-east part of mindanao (Philippines). Together with my kuya Toto, his wife ate Isay, their three kids Issa, Dani, and Gian, my nephews ate Kat, Aron, Joshua, my another sis-in-law ate Mylene and her kids JV, Levy, Yat-yat, and Lenard we travelled from my beloved hometown Tupi, South Cotabato to Davao City. We left just after the sunrise and took us four hous before reaching Davao City; we stayed for lunch at Mapayo's residence, ate Isay's home sweet home. We reached Tarragona in about four hours from Davao City proper. We were welcomed by delicious and excellent foods prepared by ate Isay's Tiya, where we will stay until easter sunday.

So here I am! The beach was actually privately owned by some of ate Isay's close relatives so we're free to bathe there anytime! hehehehe...And the beach was pretty cool and exciting! some kilometers away from the main house was a rocky beach with huge corals that looked like outgrown rocks creating tiny and larger pools within the ocean. The sea don't even smell of brine! I really loved the view, the sound of the waves, and the fresh wind blowing from the open pacific.

Lost, staring at the horizon, I shall return! And a drawing of my mama on the sand...wahahahaha!

The kids really enjoyed the Holy Week at Tarragona. None of them really showed hesitance in bathing in the wild beach, even if the waves were a feet or more bigger than them!

Kiddies up-close, Lenard and Jat-jat, eyes red and bulged because of the salty sea...

Ate Mylene attacked by the waves! Cover with coconut leaves!

We also had nightlife though we're in some kind of a remote area in the peaceful community of Davao Oriental. See below, we also made bonfires for two nights and had fun by the seashore. there was even a time when we decided to walk miles along the shore under a dark starless night sky! We passed by a nearby public cemetery which gave us goosebumps, wrapping us in icy cold fear and shivers. After reaching the other side of the island, we went back still intact and hurried when raindrops started to fall from the sable sky. Each one ran, leaving deep footprints before me. I didn't bother to hurry since I have with me a towel to cover my head. It was an unforgettable experience, walking alone under the night sky along the seashore. Waves crashing loud and roaring, the rain pouring heavy and the wind so strong pushing me against the way. For a moment, it felt dark and scary, I thought maybe it was just because of the heavy rain that blurred my eyesight as tiny figures vanish one by one from my view. Then, I realized I wasn't seeing anything else now but my own feet sinking deeply into the soft black carpet. There was no light in sight, the town had a black out! Creepy things started to appear in my mind, like a ghost or a monster would come dragging me to his lair and rip my skin and crunch my head, devouring my whole body. Or maybe a beautiful and sexy man would abduct me, put me in his bangka and bring me to his nice little hut in another island and he would make love to me throughout the night...nahhh...maybe that would be an alien or a syokoy disguised as a handsome human male specie...hahahaha...

There! I saw something flicker from a distant. The sight of it relieved me, as if hope was then taken from me and now coming back like it heard me calling it's name.thank God we made a bonfire! Finally, it helped me find the correct place, or I may be truly lost in that unfamiliar area, wandering aimlessly in the darkness! Whew..so I'm finally back home...that simple experience strengthen my hope to survive and believe in life. Just continue walking, even in darkness, just believe and don't lose your trust.

Bonfire at night by the beach. From left to right: Aaron Byrne, Maria Isabella, Kinjie, and Ate Mylene.

Me and ate Kat...

I'll be posting for the Part 2 of this travelogue "Tara! Go na!" soon...hehehe..

Ciao for now!..........

Isang Piso, Isang Libo

2009-06-19T11:21:00.003+08:00

Nakakapagod magsulat at tinatamad na akong gamitin and salitang ingles. Wala akong balak maging isang manunulat at ni minsan hindi ko binalak na maging isa. Pero may isa akong pangarap na kahit anong daan man ang nilakad ko, saan man ako dalhin ng buhay, sino man ang makilala ko, at anu man ang mangyari sa 'kin, iisa at natatangi ang patutunguhan ng alin man sa mga desisyon ko. Ayun ay ang pangarap kong maging pinakamagaling na cartoonist sa buong mundo, na kung isalin ko sa ingles, na madalas mong makikita na nakasulat o nakadikit sa aking mga gamit: "The Greatest Cartoonist in The World". Masasabi mong ang taas-taas ng aking pinapangarap, kung iyong iisipin, maaaring imposible ring mangyari. Malakas man ang loob ko, tawagin mo man akong makapal ang mukha at walang hiyang magsabi na magaling ako, wala kang pakialam. Ano ba ang alam mo sa akin? Ang pangalan ko? Ang tirahan ko? Ang edad ko? Ano ngayon? Wala ka paring pakialam dahil hindi mo ako lubusang kilala. Siguro kailangan mo pa akong paembistigahan, pwede mo ring lapitan ang isang manghuhula, pero baka naman ikaw'y lolokohin din lang. Kaya mas makakabuti siguro ay hayaan mo nalang akong managinip nang nakapikit o nakadilat, kahit madalas eh gising na gising na nakatunganga sa ulap. Alam mo ba, ipinagmamalaki ko na puno ako ng pangarap, kahit ang laki at mukhang imposible, klaro naman at matayog. Eh ikaw, may pangarap ka ba sa buhay? Hindi mo ba alam na ang dami din diyan na walang kamalay-malay kung ano ba talaga ang papel nila sa mundo. Walang ka ideya-ideya sa kung ano man ang talagang gusto nilang mangyari sa kanilang buhay. Sa madaling salita, mga taong hindi alam ano ba ang pangarap nila. Nakakalungkot ang sitwasyong ito:

A: "Alam mo B, may pangarap ako!"

B: "Ano yon A?"

A: "Pangarap kong maging isang sikat na ballerina balang araw!"

B: "Wow...Talaga A? Ang ganda naman ng pangarap mo..Sigurado akon makakamit mo yan, magaling ka naman kasi eh.."

A: "Hehehe...hindi naman sa ganoon. Eh ikaw?"

B: "Ha? Ako?"

A: "Oo..Anong pangarap mo?"

B: "Pangarap ko? Uhhmm....Teka, iisipin ko pa.."

A: "Madami ka bang pangarap? At napapaisip ka pa?"

B: "Hindi. Ang totoo niyan, wala akong maisip na talagang pangarap ko. Ang ibig kong sabihin parang hindi ko alam kung ano talagang gusto ko. Oo, madami akong gusto pero hindi katulad ng sa iyo. Nakakainggit ka nga eh at mayroon ka talagang natatanging pangarap, yung talagang gustong gusto mo. Sana ako rin."

Kung lahat tayo ay may sariling pangarap, bakit merong iba na napapaisip pa pagtinanong kung ano ang pangarap nila? Hindi ba mahalaga ang ating mga ninanais? Kung nag-aalala ka na baka hindi matutupad o sa tingin mo'y hindi mo makakayang abutin ang mga ambisyon mo sa buhay, nagkakamali ka! Ang lahat ng nagtatagumpay ay hindi aksidente, hindi produkto ng kapalaran at ng sitwasyon. Sila ay produkto ng hinubog nilang imahe sa kanilang sarili. Ang tagumpay ay nagsisimula sa isang munting pangarap, sinundan ng positibong aksyon, ginawa ng matinding pagpupursige at pasensya, at pinatibay ng malakas na paniniwala at dedikasyon.
At tandaan mo, HINDI MABUBUO ANG ISANG LIBO KUNG WALA NI ISANG PISO.
.
Tao din sila, katulad mo, katulad ko. Anong pinagkaiba? Nasa unahan sila, ikaw'y nasa hulihan pa..
.
Kung tingin mo'y kaya mo, gawin mo...

sCribbLes

2009-04-26T20:58:00.004+08:00

"Leave your past into oblivion...Surrender your hopes to the wind...Live life in the moment as if heaven is on earth..."

-kiyuki meili chizuko

"Today, I chose to do what I can. And I can do anything!"

-kiyuki meili chizuko

"Do not regret the things that once made you happy."

-kiyuki meili chizuko

..pApa, Im a GoOd gUrL..

2009-04-26T20:06:00.004+08:00

Oh father, see me living free,

Oh mother, please stay away from me?

Oh sister, won't you stop talking please?

Oh Jesus, you f***** Jesus,

Why won't you help me?

Oh father, you know how I love you,

Oh mother, you know how I hate you,

Oh sister, you know how I despise you,

Oh Jesus, f*** your mother Mary.

I'm consumed in my own world.

Every hour seems like endless years and all I hear is how they would laugh at me when I try.

I am so miserable without no one to turn to, no one to cry on, felt so numb inside.

I blame it all to those who ruined me for eternity, took away the love, gone without sanity.

Couldn't even remember how it all begun, my hatred...when will it disappear?

Then, there was a flash of memories.

And I saw my father looking at me with those eyes, it made me cry, made me want to die.

It was filled with pain.

I knew I disappointed him.

But I promise I wanted to make him proud.

Someday, somehow...I wish I could...But sorry, I wasn't strong enough.

Oh father, see me living free,

Oh mother, please stay away from me?

Oh sister, would you stop talking please?

Oh Jesus, you f***** Jesus,

You call your self a savior

So why won't you help me?

It made me think what's wrong with all the people around,

All the things that are happening, oh, why so confusing?

I'm tired of pretending like I'm ok.

God knows it's killing me

She never stop on telling me what to do, what's right. Oh mother, I just can't, you see..

She never pause on criticizing me, blaming me like it was a huge crime. Oh sist just shut up..

I'm crying out loud for peace and love in this world,

When I heard them laughing hard at me.
i'd love to hit them and slap them without my father knowing.

I'd love to see their pale faces as I stare and grin my teeth at them.

Would they be happy, angry or sad?

Somebody, tell me.

See, mom I'm tired of your acting, my sis criticizing.

Don't tel me I'm bad and to blame when it wasn't my fault, it never was...I can't leave coz anyhow, some people are still there to make me smile.

I want to prove to him, there's still a way.

If you think I got nowhere to go, F*** I always have.

See, none of you can stop me...Now, don't tell me you're so much better.

Sorry, but believe me, I'd feel wonderful if the both of you disappear.

Hear my prayer, God...prayer of a sinful one..

Oh father, I'm sorry for all I've done.

Oh mother, please cry infront of me.

Oh sister, go burn in hell, I pray.

I hear angels talking about me from up above.

They say I'm bad, and I'm to blame.

I hear devils whispering down from hell.

Saying, good girl, now come and have some fun..

"Kono Sekai"

2009-04-26T19:49:00.002+08:00

I
Boku wa kimi no zutto
Itsu made mo ni kara
Boku wa kimi ai suru, kite to mite
Yume wa yoi de no ka
Itsu made watashi ga ikiteiru no suguni ikinokoru
'
II.
Kono sekai ii da ne?
Shiroi toshite hana no
Kono sekai doko ni, doko ni hashitte?
Tokidoki tameiki
Itsu watashi wakare no kono sekai mo hitotsu sekai hakken
'
III.
Itsu kikan tsuku no
Ima sugu ni
Nani ga dekiru kana, fureru sono yo?
Itsu no hajimeru ga
Tatoe ga sekai wa owaru itsu mo kimi no zutto issho ni
'
IV.
Kono sekai basho de
Kanashimi ga aru
Koko ni kurai da na, do natte iru no?
Yokereba torikaete
Kono sekai kimi no uta no michiru to azayaki suru na

Semptember 19, 2005

2009-04-26T19:31:00.002+08:00

I'm really tired, I want to do something, I'm bored today. Date is 081905, this sucks...How damning it is to feel my world falling apart. I hate this stupid life of mine.

i'm going to a place where my dreams will truly come true. Somewhere where my soul is free to feel joy and blis. Away from this pain. Where is it? I just can't wait to be there. I'm excited! Wanna go with me? Why don't you? It's all fun in there...Want to go with me? You'll be happy like we always wanted to be! Come with me, I'll show you everything we dreamed of seeing...It'll be wonderful! No wonder here, in this Goddamned land, we suffered, endured, waited for the time to come that we will be able to love ourselves. You wanted it too, didn't you? A life where we will be lie birds soaring above this brown land, looking down at every in of life. Let's leave this world, to somewhere, in paradise. We have waited so long to reach what we've always wanted to reach. How great, wonderful it would be to be standing at the edge of a cliff facing the lonely sun setting at the horizon, with the ocean so blue turning orange. The only proof to our existence...Let's go, shall we? Right now...Come...

______The Last Hope"......

2009-04-26T19:19:00.004+08:00

God, Where am I? Am I in this world? Am I in Heaven? Am I in Hell? Or nowhere at all? I do not know. I do not have the answers maybe you have. Could I ever find my way home? ould I ever find the light to tear the Darkness? My happiness, my dreams...my path, here? Where are you? Who are you? Who am I? Do you know? I want to go, I want to escape, I want to run away from this cell. I'm so, so afraid. I want reality. I want to look at the world. But here, it is so dark. Help me. I think I'm crying. I can feel it, but I cannot see it, my tears. Look at me! Could you look at me? I'm ugly, right?! I'm dull! You all hate me, right?! Go on. Laugh! Laugh at me! I can take it...Darkness is beginning to swallow me. Fill my mind, my heart, my blood, my senses, my feelings, my heart, and my soul. With this..Darkess, this evil desire is in me. Forgive me if I have sinned. But this life I can't forgive...Is there any hope? None...Another hello? Only goodbye.
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.
.
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(I made this back in second year high school)

the crazy tadpoles

2009-04-24T23:05:00.000+08:00

I have a pond...not so big but not too small..hehehe...but im sure you'll all fit there, coz you guys are tadpoles in my life! so cute and tiny, but so wiggly and lively! hahahaha...you create foams in my pond, and I feel cushioned by your love, care, and support....thankz for being one of the crazy tadpoles in my pond of life!

I Am A Cursed Creature

2009-04-18T09:29:00.005+08:00

***
I am a cursed creature.
***
Eternity, I will be alive.
***
But death is my middle name, a soul in chain.
***
I bleed an endless flux.
***
My tears dried up for years.
***
But I still weep of a promised love unending.
***
Luck does not hear me.
***
Life has abandoned me forever.
***
I could only pray I would be stoned soon.
***
Smiles have left me.
***
I embraced hurt so much now that it doesn't feel
like hurt anymore.
***
It only felt now like a habit, involuntarily arising.
***
I am a cursed creature.
***
A detained spirit.
***
A poor soul in fated agony.
***

A Leap Beyond Normal

2009-04-16T22:06:00.003+08:00

Nobody ever told me what being normal would really mean. I don't have the precise idea of it's nature, and how would I know? I don't think I'll ever know.

Does it seem normal being normal everyday? Or maybe it would be just on the person's own reality, that one she made for herself. In the eye of the people beyond her reality, she doesn't look any bit normal. She, in their own point of view, is extreme or maybe just a leap beyond normal. But if it's something beyond the boundary of normality then, therefore it's already on the edge of abnormality! In simple words, she is not normal. So what's the point? Do I want to know how it is to know what being normal is? Or do I just really want to know if I pass the test for abnormality? When I say "she" I mean "me", and to base from what I just stated, I am extreme or just a leap beyond normal, so what's the point again? The point is that I want you to know that I am not normal, in every sense and in every point of view. People see me and considered me weird, and I, too, consider myself different, though I always aim to fit in, I just couldn't. Why could'nt I? What is it that's wrong with me? Why can't I fit in? I'm not saying I'd want to fit in the whole cliche, but just somehow be part of a group of individuals who wouldn't see me weird or a step distant from their own mental stability. I'm feeling that there's something bad in me, that pulling negative force that drowns me to suffocation, that bad air that pollutes anybody who dared open the container, that deadly toxin that poisons a curious individual who would want to spill the liquid, and what's the purpose?! To kill me and those people that I want to be with? So that's it then, the simple answer to my stupid and pointless query.

By any abnormal circumstances, I am not allowed to be normal with any normal person in this normal world! Because I am not normal, and I live inside my not-so-normal world, along with all the unnatural negative forces which pulls me down and down to the utmost realm of abnormality.

What else is there to ponder upon? Nothing more! Enough of senseless questions that surely leads to pointless answers that makes no sense at all..

i'm easy to get but difficult to own

2009-04-06T16:11:00.005+08:00

when i say i like you, it's not a guarantee that we can already start a relationship together..

when i say you're attractive and interesting, it doesn't mean that i would want to make up with you..

I am an inevitable person, I am changeable and I believe that I am indecisive.

If you want me, tell me straightly. It won't help keeping your motive from me, sooner I will know it. And no matter how you hide it, I don't care. There's no assurance you will get it anyway.

I control my life and my fate. Whatever choice I make, it's because I want to. If you think I'm playing, bet a million, and you'll sure to lose. But I'm not saying that I'm not a player, I am and I am not too.

I have a definite time when I can finally enter a relationship, and I won't tell you, why bother anyway? You lack patience, then that's fine, i won't go after you..

You intent to wait, then good for you..I'll repay that sometime, but it's not also a guarantee I'll end up with you.

But all I can promise is that if you can give me what I want, you will have me, totally..

I'm easy to get but difficult to own..

and..

If you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best...

Soul Mate

2009-02-21T10:08:00.002+08:00

People are always trying to find for that person who they will be sharing their life forever. Some are so eager and desperate, while to some, it comes so easy, in just a blink of an eye, the person is already infront of you.

It has been always told to almost everybody, that there is a soul mate for everyone. But is it really true? How is it that many are getting divorced, separated, left alone by those they love?

There is no such thing as soul mate. It is just a notion that keeps everybody hoping for something false and uncertain. Those people who keep on saying that there is indeed a soul mate for everyone is a fool, a hoax, and a damned unmerciful, illogical person. By believing there exist a soul mate just gives us expectations, which are not good, since we will be expecting for uncertain things, which later on becomes dissapointment and discouragement. Such belief on this leads us to unhappiness. Many are inferior, insecure and in vain hopeless. The idea of a soul mate would heighten their feelings more, how cruel the word will be to them, how ruthless the sayer are to them.

Soul mates are nothing but mere fantasy and imagination. To those who believe in this, think again, because everything in this world: people, feelings, things, relationships, are impermanent.

...My FRIENDS Comes First!

2009-02-15T19:36:00.002+08:00

Flowers do wither,

paints do fade,

chocolates do melt,

even rocks get destroyed too.

Friends are lovely,

but not like flowers that withers and die;

friends bring color to our life but not like paints that fade in time;

friends are the sweetest thing on earth but not like chocolates that melt and the taste dissapears;

friends are the strength we rely on but not like rocks that can soon be crushed by a heavier weight.

Friends are for keeps,

forever like exquisite diamonds, beautiful and indestructible.

Nobody can deny that friendship is precious as a diamond stone in ones life,

nobody can say that man can live alone,

we are social beings,

we need one another to survive in this vast space.

We, individuals can only find the purpose and meaning of life,

not in solitude but in company with others.
My Friends comes first.

yes, they could still be life's worst.

We would laugh,

play silly stuff

But, when my girlfriends get played,

I'm gonna slit the player's throat.

When my boyfriends get dumped,

I'm gonna run trim out her lashes.

Men won't have me better than my friends,

they are no good, compared to my bestfriends.

Boy, you may have me,

but, when worse comes to worst,

My friends comes first!!!

Call Me "yaas"

2009-02-08T18:57:00.005+08:00

...............................................................................

Sanya is pretty, I always see her around at school.
She has a long waist-length hair, soft, and straight.
I envy her..But I also dislike her..
She has a nice body, with small hips and a full bosom.
Sanya is famous among the guys, she was always greeted by them..
What's enviable about her are her eyes, that seems to captivate the men everytime.
She is nice, kind, and sweet.
I like how she shows her care and concern for me as well as to others.
Sanya is the best, the best slut..
I tell her all the time, "yaas!!"
She just smile at me, says, "yeah, I am a slut, and you're still a nut!"
Oh, the bitch.
Then her phone rang, another hook?
She grinned, "I'm gonna suksumcuk..see ya honey! Ima better leave!"
Again, the bitch is gonna have a bitchy day..
Sanya, I hate her. The girl who's always with the guys making rounds.
Me, the innocent wholesome cute little virgin,
Though, she knows otherwise, She knows how bitchy I can be.
I'm not so good with men, I never had a steady boyfriend.
She never had a steady boyfriend either, and she has several.
What about me? I end up going out with strangers, then the devilish slut in me stirred.
Stirred until it hit my conciousness: "I ain't a csmfs like Sanya, and I ain't doing it ya bastard.."
And here comes women, oh, how gorgeous they are.
I am not like 'em not as appealing and hot like 'em.
Then, let me try on some of 'em hotness? why not?
Oh, no I can't!
So what?
I wanna be Sanya, And be called "Yaas!!"

................???????......baffled lady.......

Dark Chocolate

2009-02-02T14:56:00.006+08:00

It is time that I should forget the taste of a dark chocolate.
It is bitter-sweet and melts easily on my tongue. It's bitterness is soft and tasty. It's sweetness is gross and unpleasant. My worry is that, why are bitter-tasting treats are a lot more wonderful in my mouth than those honey-flavored candies that leaves you parched and wanting for more?Why is it that sweetness linger most on our taste buds? Why is it that bitterness doesn't but I still love it? I hate sweet-tasting white chocolates because I don't want to thirst for it every now and then but cannot be quenched. Bitterness doesn't thirst me, but I love it and I never get tired of it. Though it pleases me, it's bitterness still stay. It is still bitter, always bitter. Why won't the former linger not? I hope it would not so I could taste it without reluctance, since it won't make me addicted to it and won't parch my throat. A dark chocolate is bitter, as bitter as it can be, but I love it. And why is it so? Isn't it that sweetness is sweeter than bitterness? I wish I would be fearless to give in to sweet white chocolates and would be able to love it. But then, I'm stuck with the bitter taste of my dear dark chocolate.

~Vanity Cheré~

2009-01-24T21:17:00.007+08:00

I am by myself, sitting among the fragrant flowers. Sunny it was, but the wind was cool. Contrasting both like my red polka dot skirt and my green striped blouse. A wonderful day, a peaceful meditation, but the devil is always around to twist reality; and what should be straight he delights to be crooked.

"Then, a gentle wind brushed to my nape.

I heard it hushed a word, unclear, droning together

with the buzzing of the bees.

I am hoarse, I am in worse;

But it hushed to still me, it kills me."

"A moment has passed, and I am still dead;

The bees are near me, hoping for a sting;

Sting me, sting me, poison me to bed,

Oh dear me! I rest sedated, my mind chaotic."

"I would feel the cottony cushion of passion

I would savor the tasty juice of temptation

I would delight to the prick of a thorny rose

I would meet my destruction, a pathetic toast."

"No, I do not revel in pleasure!

Nor would I desire such measure;

Things banish from existence, it will never remain for long;

It does not tarry inside a soul, tho you might believe otherwise.

If it does, tell me so!

And let me tell you the tale of a flame:

Little fiery flame appeared an instant,

With long and hardy candle for support,

But, he too, would melt and abandon fiery flame.

It might not be soon, even so,

Airy wind is somewhere, to blow away his flame."

"If it's pleasure you want, consider a whore

A wanton lady would fill you in during the night,

With whispers of indecency and lust for flesh

Take me as one, and I'll swear these to you no less.

I am no flower, I am no sweet;

This in me a dark chocolate and a sour treat."

Why put me to inquisition?

A hope for me to lie truth is vain.

I do not need beautifully wrapped presents, soft pillows to lie at sleep;

I would rather take a worn-out trash, a piece of wood to rest my head;

If it comes from you,

I trust not your wonders but those women might inside of men so dread."

I am fated, so never come near me. If it is to poison me then I welcome you. But if it is to heal me and leave me unattended, better pray for me benumbed. To revive me with a flux of elixir, from a mortal heart's sinful sensation, is to live in abaddon. An excruciating punishment to leash myself to, worst than to be left in seclusion inside a frozen temple, birth till death.

Delighted, the devil left again. the crook, the twisted, but my sedated mind still lingers on a peaceful conflict with bitter pleasures and deadly wonders.

...

StarLit Sky

2009-01-23T12:28:00.001+08:00

Under a black starlit sky, I was alone and depressed. I looked up to heaven and glimpsed upon a tiny star and thought it told me something...

Look at the stars. They're like humans here on land. Some shine brightly; some shine the brightest; and some hide behind darkness. There are great men, there are just men, and there are even men of no identity. I am one of the tiny dots in the sky, but I have a color different from the rest of them. though I may be small, odd-colored and my light is dull; you will see sooner or later, that star with the oddest color will shine the brightest from all the rest. Look at them, look at me, look up at all of us, and be hopeful. At first, you may be just a tiny dot in the universe, or maybe nothing at all! But...Believe in yourself...In what you can do, and in what you can be...Be the greatest of who you are, then, you can shine brightly like the rest us, or better yet, the brightest among the stars and inspire mankind...

dAnNy's SoNg

2009-01-22T22:03:00.005+08:00

I'd like to share this song to everybody....This is my favorite song..I first heard this song last year in the car on my way ome from school...Finally, I found it in the net and finally I knew the real title and the artist! Just this day.......I'm so happy.....This is Danny's Song sung by Kenny Loggins...

People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one,And we've only just begun.

Think I'm gonna have a son.

He will be like she and me, as free as a dove,Conceived in love.

Sun is gonna shine above.

^^^

And even though we ain't got money,I'm so in love with you, honey,

And everything will bring a chain of love.

And in the morning, when I rise,You bring a tear of joy to my eyes

And tell me everything is gonna be alright.

^^^

Seems as though, a month ago, I was Beta-Chi,Never got high.

Oh, I was a sorry guy.

And now, I smile and face the girl that shares my name.

Now I'm through with the game.This boy will never be the same.

^^^

And even though we ain't got money,I'm so in love with you, honey,
And everything will bring a chain of love.
And in the morning, when I rise,You bring a tear of joy to my eyes
And tell me everything is gonna be alright.

^^^

Pisces, Virgo rising is a very good sign,Strong and kind,

And the little boy is mine.

Now I see a family where the once was none.Now we've just begun.

Yeah, we're gonna fly to the sun.

^^^

And even though we ain't got money,I'm so in love with you, honey,

And everything will bring a chain of love.

And in the morning, when I rise,You bring a tear of joy to my eyes

And tell me everything is gonna be alright.

^^^

Love the girl who holds the world in a paper cup.Drink it up.

Love her and she'll bring you luck.

And if you find she helps your mind, better take her home.

Don't you live alone.Try to earn what lovers own.

^^^

And even though we ain't got money,I'm so in love with you, honey,

And everything will bring a chain of love.

And in the morning, when I rise,You bring a tear of joy to my eyes

And tell me everything is gonna be alright.

...

Please click on the link to hear the song...http://www.imeem.com/foxypinay/music/PcHZ-zxL/kenny_loggins_dannys_song/

Leave if Ye wish

2009-01-17T11:32:00.004+08:00

Leave if ye wish, I will not hinder ye;
Be gone if ye fancy all such grace brought to yer knee;
I lost not sight only but feelings might be,
To leave me cower'd, breathless of yer stand;
And pray tell, my man, of grace and glee
How swell is yer flight, fare well homeland!

No mouth nor tongue may twist with gentleness
Of words from a lady whom adores ye no less;
Ye hath boast'd ye'r a May of erudition,
To ken such wit of ye, need not delve to reason.
Peace in ye, appearance that to Him dost owe;
Beauty in ye, shall Dionysius wrath be fall in tow,
Strength in ye, hath shaketh the prowess in me;
Behold, I shall forget not the mem'rie,
Nay, verily recount til soul leaveth mine body.

Lasting passion for ye, good bye 'tis not the word,
Away! to the mystery of the morrow;
Whilst I ken hows't to hear the Lord,
I can nay be gay to bid mine fare well to sorrow!