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Saturday, December 31, 2011

for auld lang syne

I should have posted this earlier. Apparently, it turned out that I‘m a slowpoke. I was having a hard time last night clicking on the publish button, thinkin' if this post is worth posting after all. I guess.

As I wake up later (probably later than anyone else in the house I live), I would take a short bath, shave a few of my beard and mustache, perhaps. And parley on myself to whether I should clean my room just because the year number would change or have it linger that way. A difficult task  to decide on because I don‘t the see the point of it. I can clean anytime I want.

Today could be the last finest day I would have this year. Or, it could be the obverse as I strangle myself from the dumps I've held for the last 364 days. I can still call to mind in detail what I did last New Year's Eve and that doesn't bother me. But doing it again this year without unlikeness of it, I must be missing out something.

Regardless of what I whined, Manigong Bagong Taon!

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind
Should auld acquaintaince be forgot
And auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
And surely you'll be your pint stowp
And surely I'll be mine,
And we'll drink a richt guid willy waught
For auld lang syne.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

happy first ♥

Hi Blog! Isang taon na pala tayong magkasama! Lumipas ang mga panahon ng una kitang makita, lugmok ako nun. Binalikan ko ang una kong post sayo, puro heartaches at kadramahan tungkol kay F lang naman ang laman. Alam ko sinisuka mo na ka-emohan ko nun. Pero hanggang ngayon sinusubukan kong isipin paano kung naging kami. Ewan kaya nga kinalimutan ko na siya (ano daw?). Pero sa totoo lang wala na kong nararamdaman sa kanya. :) Iyan ang totoo sigurado ako diyan.

Alam ko masaya na siya sa kinalalagyan at kinakasama niya ngayon. Masaya na rin ako para sa kanya kahit na inalis niya sa ko friendlist niya sa facebook, kahit wala ng pansinan, kahit dati close kami ngayon hindi na ulit magkakilala, kahit ilang beses ko siyang iniyakan, kahit dati mas pipiliin kong hindi pumasa ang grades pumasa lang ako sa puso niya (sa kasamaang palad binagsak ko parehas). Minahal ko pa rin siya ng buo. I miss the days.

Marami na rin akong nakwento kay blog. Hindi ko nga lang naikukwento lahat kasi minsan nahihiya pa ko. Sana this coming year marami akong makwento mapa English man o Tagalog. Alam ko kasi minsan dumudugo na din ilong nito ni blog eh kaka English ko pero carry lang ang trip. Maraming “sana” akong gusto mangyari sa 2012. Sana mabago ang lahat. Nararamdaman ko may kakaibang mangyayari eh. Oo, I can feel it! Kahit slight lang. May magaganap talaga, wag sana masama. Sana dumami followers ko, sana rin mapalitan ko na yung relationship status ko sa facebook, sana maging friends na ulit kami ni F, sana maging 4th year college na ko sa pasukan (Diyos ko po naman), sana dumami pera ko. Yun lang.

Gusto ko rin pasalamatan lahat ng naging participants ng blog na ito (kahit konti lang kayo happy ako). Sa mga naging kasa-kasama ko this year sa blogosphere! Ang laki ng utang ko sa inyo. Kahit dun sa mga nagpopost sa chatbox ko na hindi ko maintindihan ang salita, I love you all!

May gusto pala akong i-post kay blog kaso nahihiya pa ko. Sinabi ko nga! Mahiyain ako eh. Mag-gagather muna ako ng lakas ng loob. Tungkol muli sa mga kahalayan sa buhay ko. Ahheeem! Change topic, kung mapapansin niyo may bago kay blog. Meron na rin siyang status message sa baba ng header. Improving diba?

Call me an emo pero I‘ll leave this song for you. Haaayyy namiss ko siya, nabuo tong blog dahil sa kanya.

This has been Ken of Solitary Outbreak. See yah punks!
Pero seriously, I‘m grateful that I have reached this stage of blogging. I wish this blog more years to come.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

❚ it was all drawn out in water

mahilig ako magpost ng kalasingan pero this one id say is a little spiced, though. this happened a few weeks ago.

taken during
i am wondering how long have i been in this state — instinctively quenching myself in thirst of being not alone. well, i‘m a happy-go-lucky guy which makes others think that i may not be serious in life. little they know, at my back lies a somber one.

sometimes i think i may be lacking something. or maybe it‘s tha charisma. or maybe my disheartening past experience is calling the shots. or maybe again it‘s my sexuality that i‘m still here in my dim closet. though, i never have any intentions of becoming too loud of being that for i want to stay the same and i want to keep it occult. but how am i going to enter into something if do not know who i am.

last night i wasn't really expecting something. there was an annual event in school where all year levels would come celebrate the night with booths, shows, lights, sky lanterns, fireworks, and what not. and there was a loud music while all of us danced frenziedly. it was an exhausting night so i looked up for my friends to take the smoldering heat to a break before we all collapse. it took me no more than five minutes to find them but as i found them, they were with quite a few companion.

you wanna join a drink?

i never renounce any invitations like that. when it comes to drinking, it would always be hard for me to say no. thereafter, in the middle of the crowd i sought and invited, too my best friend who told me she quit drinking and will just have something to drink other than alcohol. are you trying to be a comedienne? just tell me so i would laugh my ass off. i thought it was me being a malevolent influence to her.

it was all set for us to go to a place where we would spin our heads. it was my first time to get there, and rumors said that students from our college were banned in the vicinity for some brawling matters. nevertheless, we still made our way in. honestly, aside from its electrifying blue lights in front of the bistro, there wasn't any festive in the place compared to other places i‘ve been. anyway, i personally disliked the place.

since it was an unplanned carousal, we were skimping ourselves on what to drink. and so a night with malt bottles. it took us five to six buckets of beer to spend the night high. what made us more euphoric than we should‘t be were our consecutive bottoms up like a machine. we were actually calling it a night though when someone proposed a dare. a dare which pulled us into some dirty things and thus, we ordered another bucket to stay liquored up.

the dare: kiss the opposite sex. it was the group who is doing all the teasing and random pairing, so there‘s  no turning back.

it wasn't long before i realized i had kissed two girls; the one with my friend and the other one was someone i don't  know whom i thought a good kisser since she tried to tongue me. perhaps,  i was a disappointment for her by not returning back or didn't at least have an initiative to roll in.  well, for a person like me whose not used of these stuff or sort of things, it came to me as obscure but at same time interesting. so perked up since i had the camera, everything was recorded as no one would finish kissing unless captured. in which case, the trails and all the evidences and all things that would put them right into corner were on me.

everyone was going wild. there were some that caught our attention who both peed downstairs but were so held up as if they have no plans coming back. for all one knows, they could be taking on the best part of it. and some even makeout with the same sex. it came to my senses that this is all fucked up but fuck it.

fortunately, i was still able to pull myself together and ride home. however to top it all, right after the next day i asked myself as i was passing by them a ghost, did something happened last night?

it was all drawn out in water, wasn't it?

Tuesday, November 08, 2011

❚ young but old

before i leave this blog again for a month or so, let me take you to a glimpse in life of my childhood, to a place bound in my memories.

there was no sound but the rolling in the aisles continued. it was mute from the beginning until the whistling october leaves careen as wind whispered in tempest. the house was vintage. the sleek wooden structures, its carves, every step the floor creaks and the scent of varnish crippled through thy soul. i went outside with bare feet, grazing stones and pebbles and ran through the trees as if a wolf lost its way the streams. everthing was untrodden with eyes capturing and skin breathing in. i was young.

meters further, stepped a shallow creation to abyss with amber shells interspersed across visibility. dug holes and sand castles’s mounds away from city’s crapers and smog. from all decay of memory and bliss, a confiding voice groused from heavens, “bago ka dito? oo, nagbabakasyon lang. ako pala si nido, taga saan ka?” his mother must have not thought of a name in nine months. a name of a brand of milk, a name that roused my bosom, a friendship blossomed.

gently, the waves started to play with us, a stranger is welcomed. the tanning heat which burns this ghastly, urban skin crimsoned in hours under sun and saltwater. they had an artesian well with stains of rust creeping – their faucet. we started to wash with him pumping as water coming out of amusement and delight. their house was nifty with trees of teaming fruits awaiting to fall. i would remember this forever.

the next day, i waited at the terrace gazing around that for every child is a continent of pleasure. a terrain you would want to reveal. i went outside our vicinity and started looking to a boy I met yesterday. I went pass by the neighborhood and everyone was throwing eyes at me, i felt strange. i got it, i am new here but what‘s the stare all about, asked myself blatantly.

he asked me to go with him. with our feet running in wilds, we unraveled the vast beauty of what they call heaven‘s haven. we would lay all day building houses out of woods and leaves, hounding rare insects you would never see in the streets of manila, and stalking foreigners at the beach to sell our handmade flower necklace. we were eyesore‘s from the beach’s owner but to me, it was a sight stamped from the unforgotten. i never wanted to leave.

until such time when the days i spent were like minutes and the hum of the ocean began to subside. i began to feel my eyes burning with tears falling down through a scowling face. we were about to leave. to keep our comity, we both promised we would write each other as we saved our home addresses. we did our final hand shake to say goodbyes.

ps. walang nangyaring sulatan after. lol

Monday, October 24, 2011

❚ best of friends

(read the first part)

I immediately responded, ‘tol anong ginagawa mo, lasing ka na.’

I didn't get infuriated nor offended. With the gut to kiss me, I know he was expecting the worst. But I realized while our lips in union, the heat I felt was different. It was difficult for me to explain the feeling and to let go, though I had to push him back. It was not anger reigning during those five seconds, and all I knew afterwards was my manhood started to spring.

‘Sorry buds, sinunod ko lang yung consequence nila.’

The girls shouted in grace ‘more! more!’ and we’re just too naive from all the teasing. I just said defensive, ‘tumigil na kayo lakas na ng amats nyo.’  Among the people in that room, I was the only one quite sober enough for I didn't drink that much, maybe the reason why I was easily affected with all their banter.

There on, I continued sympathizing with this tipsy girl whose almost about to cry. Until time calls for it, everyone was so liquored up heavily, they were stumbling on their way. ‘Guys, kaya niyo pa umuwi?’ I muttered. ‘Don‘t worry about us sanay na kami sa ganito, yung best friend mo alalayan mo.’ See you guys on Monday na lang then everyone went to their respective routes.

I was guiding him and still pretending I wasn‘t bothered by the kiss. And I know he do. He couldn‘t look at me in the face since that time. It was the most awkward moment of my life but, despite all I was interested of what‘s next to happen.

‘Kaya mo pa ba? Bakit kasi ang dami mong ininom eh.’
‘Kaya ko to,’ then you let you go off me. Shortly after, you tripped over something.
‘See, hindi mo na nga alam kung ano yang dinadaan mo.’

Typical, two drunks sitting in the gutter along the street; silent, waiting for a cab. The alcohol and the lethargic dawn started to kindle more strapping. And the yellow streetlights are the only source of consciousness.

‘Buds, ano kaya mo ba? Hatid kita sa inyo?’
‘Sarado na bahay namin buds, pwede ba sa iyo muna ako makitulog?’
I couldn't refuse a friend for a night so I said it‘s okay.

We fell asleep while drifting in the taxi. I couldn‘t resist sleeping so I just told the driver to wake me up when near. Thirty minutes after we were in my small rented room. He went straight off the bathroom and barfed out loud. In a minute or so, the room started to suffocate the rich liquor and all stuffs. I told him to change his clothes and lent some of my drawers. I was so tired I fell asleep without him noticing he was done. Then, an hour later I woke up. I saw him lying next to me and awake.

‘Oh, tapos ka na pala ‘di mo man lang ako ginising.’
You were reticent. ‘Do we have a problem here? Was it about earlier?’ Then you lean the opposite of me. As I forcefully held your shoulders towards me, you suddenly grabbed and kissed me. There was a pause as we looked into each other‘s eyes. This time, I let it happened. Our tongues went spinning for awhile and slowly our clothes started to scatter, both of us were in rage. These soaked and wrinkled sheets, the sounds of weeping and all quivering are proof this room were once dwelt by tainted innocence.

The morning after, I roused with you staring at me closely. It was the first time I get to appreciate his beauty. And the first words I heard of was I‘m sorry. ‘Ulol, fuck you!’ was my only reply. Then we both laughed.
We simmered ourselves a bit under the sheets, buck naked, and talked about last night. Then he left.

I didn't know it was the last time I was going to see him. On Monday, he was absent. I was trying to reach him but he never answered any of my calls. Our office mates commented, ‘maybe nahihiya lang yan because of the consequence last night.’ ‘Hehe, siguro nga.’ But seriously, I know there is something up.
I let it pass the next day. Still, he was absent. He wasn‘t texting back, too. I even went to their house to visit his ass but his father said he went to Camiguin.

‘Haven‘t you been informed? He said he went there with his girlfriend for a week.’
Really!? He‘s going on a trip without filing LOA. And I never knew he‘s got a new girlfriend.

A week after I was still contacting him. He answered.
Bro, galit ka ba? Kamusta?
No, busy lang ako.
Busy saan? With your trips? You know what, kung may problema just say it to me.
Buds, I don‘t have problems. I‘ll call you back.

I‘d waited but you never called. I thought there‘s a line now between us and I let this opportunity to lay low thinking we should give ourselves time. A month later, I was calling you and you answered.

Buds, okay ka na?
Why? I was never not okay.
Talaga? You just quit your job pre and most of all I have not seen you for a month. What are you up to?
Wala. I’m fine, don‘t bother.
Yun lang? No news? No something? I think we better meet tomorrow at SB, 8 am.
Sorry buds, I really don‘t have time for those. Busy talaga ko.
You don‘t have time? Do you even have a job and for god‘s sake it‘s our friendship at stake!
I‘ll see you there.
Then he hung up.

I woke up early morning for a meeting I set up myself without an assurance you would show up. I checked on my phone to see you‘d care a message however, maybe I was just expecting too much from you.

I looked outside the window and the clouds looked awful as it was going to burst. ‘Damn! Uulan pa yata.’ I was so impassive of everything from taking a bath to donning my clothes; I was thinking seriously of you to say things I never had a chance to since we became best friends. I was hoping this would be the right time to tell what you and I deserve to know.

It was 10 already and I was still outside the coffee shop waiting. I stood up to see around. Suddenly, the sky roars at me. The place fueled  by aromatic coffee and the murmurs of people gently faded as the rain slowly come down in buckets. I was standing under it with hopes that in any second you would loom and stop them from falling....

I don‘t understand, every raindrop feels like nails stabbing.

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Saturday, October 22, 2011

❚ best of friends

A tale of someone I was told.

The rain slowly come down in buckets. I was standing under it with hopes that in any second you would loom and stop them from falling....I don‘t understand, every raindrop feels like nails stabbing.

It was not a good night for me pleading you to come. I was calling you and you said you don’t have time and for god’s sake, it is our friendship at stake. I woke up early morning for a meeting I set up myself without an assurance you would show up. I checked on my phone to see you‘d care a message however, maybe I was just expecting too much from you.

The clouds looked awful as it was going to burst. I was so impassive of everything from taking a bath to donning my clothes; I was thinking seriously of you to say things I never had a chance to. I was hoping this would be the right time to tell what you and I deserve to know.

We have been hanging out as friends for over a year now, nothing more than that. But the thing is, there‘s an issue we can‘t fend off. Like a pistol of chauvinism triggered on us and the world we live in is just sided immutable on the left. That whatever we do, we can never be right. To break it, we are both guys.

It was not an issue for us. We have been seeing one another as friends and we never talked anything about it. For us, it was only them whose giving the wrong impression which I supposed to be true. We had done guy things like talking about our past girlfriends, our online games interests, our work, from personal to no-brainer topics. Some people say we‘re like brothers. Some people say we‘re shit judging from their vicious comments.

It was our first salary back then when we both treated ourselves. Actually, it wasn't only the two of us. The newly hired agents celebrate for the first time they received their payroll. It should just be a normal watch-movie-and-eat-blast, though it turned out to be taking on the booze. The group decided to hook up in a grill along Tomas Morato. We got a private room and we sat abreast. 

The other guys noticed and mocked us why have we always been together and we‘re not hanging out with them. It was untimely to think of an answer, and he just said we‘re best friends and we hardly know any of you. Yes, it was straightforward yet far-fetched answer. The women then reacted, well it‘s time for you guys to set that side and start knowing us ‘singles’ better. 

The teasing flames on.

The night is falling deep and deeply the firewater has burned our frame of mind. Away from brass tacks, we started playing games usually played by dipsomaniacs: spin the bottle. To whoever the bottle points get to play truth or consequence.

I was not paying attention about the game ‘cause I was talking to a girl who happens to be depressed. She was bitching about his boyfriend and how immature their relationship was. While giving my advice, I didn‘t know my best friend on the roll took consequence until I felt his lips with mine. It was like 5 seconds and I felt the heat sprawled out in my body. His hands were holding my face but I managed to pushed him off. And the crowd‘s reveled.

to be continued...

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❚ shit talks

The truth is, I don‘t even know where to start to. I had made a lot of drafts and its piling up my unpublished posts yet I can‘t figure out much what to write.

It has been awhile since I left my blog undisturbed. Every time I paid a visit, I am enticed to scribble at least a paragraph  but when I reached the second, I lose my zeal. Maybe, I don‘t exactly understand the purpose of blogging. I was always hoping that I could bring out stories in a different perspective of me being not much into it. At least now, I understand what it means to be me in my writing.

That‘s it. 

But I guess that is what this blog all about, do shit tales in solitude. For the record, no one I know in real life knows this blog, I suppose I can say all I want(I reiterate all). And even though this grousing doesn't make any sense, I‘ll stay coherent with my posts. 

Nasisira lang yata ulo ko. :)

Tuesday, August 02, 2011

❚ in crypt of you

The emanation of beclouded sky luminesce upon me with nothing to offer.
This silky sheet, old and in shreds, still gloat the rimy moment when you and I were under.
Your scent evanesce as you left me in parcels.
And even the piquancy of our faint lips has turned bland and bitter.
I wake up stark-naked and a mirror.
With no one around but me, with the silence from dead breadth of loneness I stand in front.
 I have only done this scarcely ever, ogling at my pith callously. Inch by inch, the deeper I see my oblivion. This cryptic emptiness.
As I lay my mind to ruminate the night when our souls entwined, right when our chests succumbed out from its strings, I feel a dark bolt's chastise. I feel dire remorse calling out endlessly.
That I had to see you go. That had I not confine with puerile cowardice, this rainy morning would have been shared between us all.

I could have spent more time, I could have listened more with your incessant rumblings, I could have just smiled when I see you mad, I could have answered all your calls, I could have held you even closer. I wish I could.

The body before me is the body I have not seen since. The hole is much profound that however I clothe myself, it exudes blindly. I can only be hypocritical and no one to fill it but you. I am in crypt of you.

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Saturday, July 02, 2011

❚ still

I am meagerly drained. 

I am drained from head down to toes, from trunk to my lateral extremities, from superficial skin to deep peritoneum and from communal liberty to solitary confinement. One of the crude prisoners of an institution of the many, I forced myself in cataclysm from a crime unbailable. The shackling decretum where our feet mount is not immutable, we are all students working on our parole. A time comes untrammeled, it will all pay what we suffered for.

School compels me down to the bowels of my pit. Aggrieved and busy I am.
I am going to watch Transformers 3 on IMAX, still.

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Iridescent - Linkin Park (Transformers 3)

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

❚ this partaking of alcohol

The first day of class was hardcore. It was not really my anticipated cliché of public students going on their first day. That suddenly, a very lax man still corrupted by summer dormancy become ruffled with much moil. You better get your brain ready for if you have a loose one, you will trip. I happen to have one, sadly.

To say, I do not know anyone much in class. I can count in fingers my buddies and the rest are aliens. I know this is tragic. I will have again to heed for self-deprecating stunts to make friends—that is how most know me: a humorist I am not. My real friends are ahead of me so d*mn my life.

But despite of it all, my carouser cousins planned to hit the bottle as we always do in Trinoma. Firewater travels through our veins that every time it calls of refueling, our feet runs for quench. And despite, again, of my stewing over acid dyspepsia onslaught, I took all chances. Who cares anyway, my amour for alcohol is out of one’s mind. ‘See you later in hospital,’ was my devil-may-care answer.

We came in five of us first in the place. I took a Mindoro Sling cocktail as they didn't have my preferred Blue Margarita, very light I should say. And the usual bucket orders of Red Horse and San Mig Light to, I believe, wash out.

Before long, my sober being toned down as every time I took a leak, my feet tottered. And the moonshine reigning us shuffled with exhaust of cigar called forth out of thin air tittering; pulling one‘s leg over almost anything that loomed from our slipping unchaste. I kept myself sane as much as I ever could. My head might be spinning heavily but my thinking was quite unstirred.

It has really been my caprice to bore at people walking to and fro and around the place. Then, I started making my silence till we‘re the only ones left in the bistro and grill house. We decided to call it a night and paid our bill and went out. We stopped by the nearest café to temperate the intemperate alcohol.

If it was alcohol or soberness walloped its way to reach me, as something surfaced from earth’s depths—expected but unheard of. As I saw mostly crowds with the likeness of Heracles liquored up along, I tout de suite felt the vacuity, of this life abiding, became swamped by lechery rushing through every inch of my coming of age. To which made it water clear my gravitation to both men and women.

The dead air belching from my pith was of more disarray of feelings. A lone ore held of the few, by the few. And an enigma stolen from the unvarnished truth that I for one cannot refuse nor hand back, I hit the sack a heretic of my own.

Still, life goes on. Endowed with voluminous ventricles and atria to confine an all-inclusive perspective of and adventuresome bond. A man who can love anyone.

PS: i find this post ineffective. i might be too drunk.

Monday, June 06, 2011

❚ back to square one

I do not have something baleful or morbidly emotional stories to break now. I feel that I’m entitled of hiatus for a while and those love causatum(s) I had is enough that I leave them engraved from here. As the first semester finally starts this 9th of June, officially my thirdth year ‘cause I feel like I was stuck in eternity, these passel of close encounters of infatuation will soon distend again all the way to my balls. But I’ll make sure to shun them away. I am decided to face them after I finished this ‘promising’ course I’m at; I won‘t be entertained and won‘t be entertaining anyone.

—Only my patients deserve me, for the duration at least. 
Like d*mn as if I’m fully apt of holding the reins of my own.

The blames of yesterday has lastly worn down, acclaim for disfiguring my life. I am off to fresh start and with hope a rife posts to come.                                                                                                                         

Saturday, May 28, 2011

❚ a hindsight, we‘re together

For What its Worth - For This Cycle
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On that frore dead of night of bleary and while on condoled walking, my heart had never trampled over my body that way. It was new to me. My arid hands that had always held bottles of liqueur and addictive thorns of cigars, started spouting dank butterflies. Even with, our hands enclosed much taut like a child fearful of being lost. As we walked our path seeming to last a short while, your skin grazed mine in euphoria. It felt perfect warm that I had only whimmed this picture to end not.

Cowed to break the charm of primordial gods, I gave in to your ways of silence. I gaped at you slyly, a face of no ifs, ands or buts being with me. All I could do was to bog down our speed of treading, hoping I could feel your hands any longer. Soon, you looked at me. I felt thawing as your eyes telling me to look back. You stopped a sudden. How far are we going? It played in loops ‘till angst in my heart. I’m daunted how far can we go. My hands were shaken, your eyes cajoling every inch of me for words. I held both your hands reaching your arms then back, ending with our bosom entwined. Aren't this enough?, I muttered.

Of course it is.
Then why you ask?
It’s just....
Wrong?  It‘s our relationship, Isn't?
No, of course it‘s not. I....
Let me take you home.
Hold on, we should do this a bit longer. 

Night had fallen upon us without taking in further words. Its pale semblance finally succumbed to the fumes of our bodies embraced. I could‘t mind being virtuous now that your subtle lips were convincing. Every thrusts of crimson flesh seemed a gallop of lust. Were our sinful sap called in unison, I felt your heart running savage as mine catching up not far off the pace. It was my first kiss, I discerned it meant something.

We continued strolling down to your way home. This time my arms were across your shoulder. While we reached your house, we bluffed as friends as distance started to substance. Our eyes communed enough to say every phrase a lovers ought—a bond we bitterly pledged occult to any of their eyes‘s bigotry. As the door closed, a tone came out. I cannot lose you. So do I.

Gone are those days.

Just when I thought somehow everything I own smelled of you, your scent meekly slipped out of my esteemed memories. Now, everything I know of you flow past me everlessly. You were the person who thought me that love was never a choice, for I had to feel it more than anything else. When I had to blame myself for my frailties, you were there taking it. And I know for sure that the love I knew once will be different thereafter.

You were gone, you chose him over me without leave-taking litany. I would not mind as I had always been a sin for you; I had no right of my miserly intentions. My being was the most empty of all, engulfing you and so you could fill its expanse—a dreadfully romantic ambition.  Still, your were the most sugar-coated tale I kept, that every time we may see each other now, I know there happened a mystery once. Love.

Monday, May 23, 2011

❚ you are single

   Being single is terse itself. The fact you are alone is an enticing incense not just to same feathers but an impending treachery to existing affairs as well. Rigidly, being caught red-handed is not part of the goal. The whole community extending borders is your humongous playing field. Remember not to perish, you are the protagonist of your own frolic. There are no best-supporting roles for their triumphs in limelight are not yours.

   Recite “single” repetitively without commitment, you’d realize you can stop doing it as desired. All time is yours—no hassle, no late excuses—and misspend it prudently as for others it is gold, for you it is bronze. Your monthly stipend is exclusive. Grope all luxuries of a teenage to young adulthood man, splurge your money through buying the most high-priced perfume in Giorgio Armani. Spritz some on your neck and randomly on your favorite spruce flannel long-sleeve button-up shirt. Pretend you’re strolling in the mall on purpose, an unexpected old acquaintance is around waiting. Your hi’s and hello’s are spectral and remember not to forget to inquire her number. Go out with her once. If your date did not work out or she hold you off on a text message, recuperate and move on to the next.

    Your very goal is to seek for a partner. Plead your friends for their help is crucial. Because presumably, they too have friends whose privy parts are as vestal as yours, withal, keep your fingers crossed. However, social networking sites are an alternate harpoon; add people all you want until you hit a thousand. Inveigle and banter every single “single” girl you think unpretentious. But, do not get your hopes up.

   There are days, months or years you’ll be alone. Truly, the anatomical consistency of your milt can tell. There are people who would curse themselves to quietus, knowing they too want to be woven on a companion’s sweetest troths of forever. Tell them they’ll grow creases a maiden. There will be times, a battered ram of cliché will fire akin questions at you: When will you get married? Tell them as soon as theirs daughters achieve menarche. 

   Brutal, yes. Your love life is never been else’s business.
   As your day ends with still an ounce of might to face life’s cruelty, your Abrazador and linen offer the same patronage since days of auld lang syne. They will not have limbs to get even by your caresses neither will they have ears to hear your moans of solitariness. On that night, your bed is single and so are you.

Auld Lang Syne is translated in English Literature as “old long since” or idiomatically, “long long ago.” 
The style of writing is a copy, a frustration. It seems a backslide.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

❚ i need to quit

   Lately, I feel like I’m living a hermit life, again. I know I did this a bunch of times though not as much as the past few weeks. Beyond any doubt, I rate this summer the worst of all not only had I not gotten to any of the summer vacation hot spots, not to mention those run-of-the-mill pool resorts, but also my summer sucks for not even had a chance to revel with my friends. 

   I know they’re feeling like I’m contriving this bulwark between us ‘cause every time they would invite me, my pockets seemed abysmal to my reach. I noted some messages from them, How is life? Still alive?, yet the only answer I came up with was to leave them unanswered. Not exactly I’m fleeing myself from my obligation as a friend, I just couldn’t help it.

   What is more eating me is the college’s publication I have been longing for months to forsake to. We have a deadline to meet this coming June but the workload is heaping up incessantly. I remember I told you once that I layout our college’s newspaper magazine as an extracurricular activity since Adobe is my fancy. In spite of, it seems like the moil they placed upon me doesn't equate the return I should be getting. Or I should say I find it infeasible. The sleepless nights are way too unjust. The electric consumption is preposterous. The time I’m spending is terribly tedious. And on top of that, I feel distressed.

   I pushed my luck to ask for my rescindment from the org the moment we had a meeting after the latest issue was published like 4 months ago. I tried to voice out my scheme but everyone including my org mates were nonconforming, even our adviser mock me as I was attempting to. They knew it would be a hard time to find for my replacement. They left me no choice. It is enough that I had once produced something I could flaunt inasmuch as I proved to myself I am adept of doing it so. Unluckily, I’m still an affiliate doing the same routines I hated above this paragraph.

   The next time I would plan about escaping quitting, I would not wage into luck. It is not luck I should be worrying about—it is my right. Had I known then what I know now, I would have not shown my craft in layouting. Everything is at its utmost cry-over-spilled-milk drama recently. My mother whose been insistent on my resignation since, gives me more reason to quit.
   Haaa! They’ll see.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

❚ student nurse

   Malapit nanaman magsimula ang bagong semestre. Haharapin ko nanaman ang pinaka-sikat na kurso sa Pilipinas. Simula nanaman ng kalbaryo sa paggising sa umaga at kapag na-late ng gising, yung drayber nanaman ng dyip ang pagdidiskitahan ko. Eh sa totoo namang ang bagal nila magmaneho eh. Kung alam lang nila kung anu-ano na sinasabi ko sa isip ko tungkol sa kanila, kaya madalas umaga pa lang nagkakasala na ko. Ang hirap talaga pag nursing, wala kang karapatan ma-late. Sinasanay daw kami dahil buhay lagi ang nakataya kapag nasa totoong setting na. Hindi kaya biro ang ma-late, isa pa babayaran namin yun o magkakaroon ng tinatawag na Repeat Rotation o Make-up Duty—ibig sabihin magduduty ka ulit.

   Hindi ka rin pupwede pa petiks-petiks. Lalo na kung natoka ka sa mga Clinical Instructor na akala mo may lahi siyang Premenstrual Syndrome o PMS, alam niyo na yun. Ang sungit at dapat lagi kang busy, yun bang hindi ka nauubusan ng gagawin, dun pumapasok ang term na toxic. Kaya sa totoo lang, suki na ako ng mga pasyente sa pag kuha ng Blood Pressure. Minsan kahit yung mga bisita nagpapakuha rin. Nakakatuwa kapag nakikita mo mga reaction nila pag sinabi mong 140/90 po, ang taas po ng BP niyo, takot na takot sila nun, mataas na ba yun ano ba ang dapat na BP iho? Ah ehh ang normal po talaga kasi na BP ay 120/80 pero depende po iyon, may mga tao po kasing....Diba sikat ka kasi pakikinggan ka talaga nila.

   Meron din namang mababait na CI, yun bang nakaalalay sa lahat ng gagawin mo. Hindi nagagalit at higit sa lahat nakikipagkwentuhan. Minsan na-assign ako sa pedia ward, kukuhanan ko sana ng vital signs kaso iyak ng iyak yung bata, takot sa mga nurse at doctor lalo na hindi pa naman ako child friendly kaya yung CI ko na ang gumawa. May mga CI kasi na bahala ka pasyente mo yan, gawan mo ng paraan yan.

   May mga bagay na ayoko gawin kapag duty. Una, ayoko magpalit ng bedsheet ng sandamakmak na kama ng pasyente. Pakiramdam ko kasi housekeeper ang dating ko habang pinanonood nila ko gawin yun. At pangalawa, ayoko magpaligo o magpunas ng pasyente, depende na lang siguro kung maganda ang pasyente, kadalasan hindi. Ayos lang sa akin ang lahat wag lang ang dalawang yun.

   Sabi nila kung nurse ka dapat madaldal ka kasi way mo yun para ma-assess mo ng husto yung kalagayan ng patient. Intimidating to especially sa mga student nurse. Mahirap magbuild ng rapport lalo na kung hindi ka madaldal, o worst sa lahat shy-type. Uso pa ba yun? Mapagtatanto mong makapal din pala mukha mo pag nandun ka na.

   Sobrang dami pang experience pag nasa area ka, hindi mo mapapansin tapos na pala ang 6-8 hours shift mo na hindi man lang umuupo.

   Sa totoo lang trabaho ang laging iniisip ko kapag tapos na ko. Marami ang nurse ngayon sa Pilipinas na walang trabaho, maraming ka kompitensya para makapasok kaya pakiramdam ko naghihintay ako sa wala. Sana lang mali ang akala ko, sana lang...

Sunday, May 08, 2011


It has been quite some time since we last spoken and despite of, it was not a good one. To say for most people, our definition of right over wrong and my fault over their fault varies. And where pride complements prejudice, thus sightless beings who become impassive are made. The once a docile tree holding out against the sinewy wind, could wither any time off the season.

Time is the greatest antidote of all time—the most conspicuous prescription yet barely prescribed. It serves as an epinephrine which strengthens myocardial contraction when heart seems to die. And any emotional gaps farther as between cosmos, will come to close, gradually. As emotions coincide with time that  however cold, it will slowly melt by the moment our hearts become versed with sympathy.

We came to visit M yesterday and as expected, I saw them both. I will not delve much into details pero it went very smooth. I have done my part and I do not feel remorseful of it. I have no hard feelings. I hope they do feel the same.----

Here is the little peek how it went off:
Ako: Ui, namiss kita...
M: Ako din, kamusta kana?
Ako: Eto, napagisip-isip ko hindi pala si F ang gusto ko ikaw talaga. Daming nga nagkakagusto sakin ngayon di ko lang
The rest is tawanan and kwentuhan.

This post, I believe, will mark the end of my grudges against them or any thing which concerns our past.

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

What should I do?

Kailan lang nakatanggap ako ng text message sa isang barkada.

Ken punta tayo sa *General Hospital, nasagasaan daw si M, nahagip yung paa. Game ka?

Remember this guy from my story 120 days of lie. He used to be a friend of mine. To cut to the chase, siya yung kaibigan kong sinulot yung nililigawan kong girl, deliberately. In the end, they both end up hating me and I hating them more. And in the past months, actually over a year already, we have been neutrally pretending to be like strangers. I oftentimes walked right them without saying a word or simply nod notwithstanding I find it obviously natural for those people who had gone through all these issues.

The whole barkada, I think, is going to pay a visit this Saturday since he recently had an operation—a tibial fracture to be corrected. Lately, I have been asking myself if I should go or not. I don‘t exactly even know how to start a conversation with him or to both of them. Magiging friends ba ulit kami kung pupunta man ako dun or I would utterly turn out mean kung hindi? Badtreppp.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Unvarnished Truth

Short, Continuation
Installment #3: Unvarnished Truth (finale)

 I recollect the first time my eyes laid on her. Every break, I used to dine alone in a bourgeois café established unpopularly along the university belt; it was less nestled by boisterous people and so a limpid place to purge time. Daily, I indulge my palate with Curry and Java whilst the remaining time is mine to grow callous in my seat. One fine day, as I was about to finish my routine, the meek chimes from the door belled. My eyes, as usual, is abnormally sync to  who goes in and out of the café. I noticed this fagged looking girl, clumsy in every detail as she dropped the book considering all puissance were on her fingertips, engrossed texting. And in the time she picked it up, stuffs in her bag slipped out. She was awkwardly a turn off and so I decided to depart without even looking where she seated.

The following day, she did not show up; I did not expect her to come back. On the other day, she was already perched when I came. Staring at her closely: plain earrings, dyed hair, faint makeup, the badge in her uniform, and the book she was reading by Tom Porter, no doubt an architect student not far my institution. I requested a different entrée this time, but at the same charge. There was nothing fancy about her, not even fairly ravishing except for the dint on the sides of her cheeks. I wonder what her name is. As she closed her book about to leave, her surname inked sidewise, Cordova. I finally unveiled something about her, at least.

Days had passed and I figured out she would only visit to lunch thrice  a week. Increasingly, I was becoming an espionage to her. Every so often I would slyly tail her the moment she vacate the café. I did not care if she sees me, or else I would merely feign that were traversing the same route. Make-or-break, I irrevocably decided to introduce myself, I did not just know how.

One noontide, I saw her making way to the café. It was a terrible day for buckets of water come down from sky. She tried to cover herself with a book but failed so. Clumsy as ever, I whispered. Today is my day. I, on the abreast side of the street, with an umbrella amassing all the guts reserved, fleetly saved her from full-blown catastrophe. As gentle as a mist dress, I opened the door for her. This time, we shared the same table. We gibbered endlessly as the rain plummet unceasingly and decided to absent ourselves from respective class. Her name was Agnes and the rest is how we became lovers.

Truth rifted me. Forthwith, the moments we shared turned oblivious. We were once admirably a couplet—conjoined sensibly with single mind—stuck impassioned incessantly, much resembling bacteria that will surpass lifetimes. However, as burning metamorphose substance to flume and with hair physiologically turning gray, so as  nothing by any chance will undo us. She had found her own bliss with.

That December, where holy angels gamboled above the heavens with ever lavishly cascading harmony, I caroused the eve deeming likely to shun the travail that poisoned me—liquor had never stood a luck. While walking falteringly along the forsaken pavement of Don Galo, as Harold Crick coaxed his author not to end him and his story, I glanced beyond invoking to hear me. To trees and street lamps, I looked conventionally a peasant scum but a bystander would claim me demented.

Late that night, our door was opened and all lights were on as if a gala of squandering energy is being celebrated. I caught her weeping in our rented apartment. Her head leaning on someone else‘s shoulder, probably the man she was with early this morning, then, I teased her with doubt why she never content. She sobbingly mumbled to my mother, “Anthony will be missed.”

All of the sudden, the life I knew evolved to a dark piece of ember. All the while, I had been thinking I was still Anthony, a boy who hardly love but loved. I looked around and noticed a sublime white casket laid in our common room, adjacent to it is a favorite old picture of mine when I was eleven and a bouquet of lavender Tulips with a pearly sash saying condolences—I no longer exist.

Despite the baffling agony, I tried to retrace myself back to where I should be. It was when I was in the jeepney. My soul, unknowing my demise, still hoped that  I could answer her back, I love you, too. It may be too behind time to love her further, still and all, her name will boundlessly relived in me, Agnes.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

We parted like Strangers.

Shorties, Continuation
Installment# 2: We parted like Strangers.

Someone tapped me and asked if could pass his fare in front. I grasped without hesitation and said, “bayad daw po." Then I mulled of nothing but to clear this thing off my head.

At the end station still, I kept mulling, I headed down the street and floundered each indecisive step. I came across this old sluggard fella’ where we jolted our shoulders. He howled, “Hoy! Tignan mo yung dinadaan mo.” More, he stared at me with a menacing look, snitching his obnoxious mastery. I looked back in disgrace after we parted a block or two. And he was gone like silhouette of a waving slender curtain.

I glamored a billboard to where I usually cross. “Ohh, pinalitan na pala?” I muttered. The billboard seemed to illuminate the plaza where I stride through home. The grinning subject, the resplendent bulbs, and the couples fondling each other on benches only made me crestfallen.

We had been inadvertently like this since then. Discord, narrow-minded, childish acts, we were like magnets repelling akin poles, like parallel lines that will never converge at some point. That‘s when we were at our weakest.

I felt being the fuel which made her atrocious. And to tame the fire, I had to slightly uncoil the lasso bound between us. If only emotions were just child‘s play, then we had been long ago sanctified by wedlock. But taming has gone out on its own way. I, to accept the fact, was never an exceptional tamer. The clashing fire I thought would underrate by spaces turned out to lose its radiance. She was, as it came to my senses, gravely becoming cold.

The numbed morning like the manifold before it. The peculiar thing with this particular day was: an another man.

I looked at her in a distancedistance which never happened to us when we were comfortably close. We were closer than anyone else would know. I tried to break that distance. But it felt like they were constantly far no matter how persistent I tracked them down. I struggled to walk past them yet it seemed I was just a strangera stranger just as nothing mattered between us.

“Am I unmistakably a stranger now?”

to be concluded....

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Easing Out.

Installment# 1: Easing Out.

She said she love me, I never answered back. 

The cars on the highway were free flashing in speed. The jeepney I was riding to seemed speeding against time. The backseat driver changed the compact disc to a local breaking rhythmic music. And the other passengers were somnolent due to swayed movement made by sudden breaks and approaching crepuscular light. 

Some old folks were becoming agitated believing we might get bumped or hit anything on the road. And I, who used to ride on it everyday couldn't care less. Whilst cuddling my school bag, I brooded over things that bugged me the most after the academic day – I guess, not really. The circumstances I had in mind were fast swirling; every single detail I captured earlier seemed recurring back the way it was and its definition was clearer than before. I am thinking if I could have done the rightful thing, this would not seethe. As if I‘m capable of defying my predestination. 

Simply, I kept thinking the unyielding situation I had and thought of indefinite recourse but I know everything that happened will permanently leave its fissure. Throughout non-occupational moment, I only tired myself thinking, gradually closed my eyes and let myself become one with the slumbering cimmerian shade.

I did not know I fell asleep. I winked my eyes two or three to prove this delusion was not authentic and even blinked more. But the chromatism I see and the metaphors telling my retina contest that everything was true and I just woke up from napping eleven minutes from my seat. 

“Was it a dream?..” I asked myself still enigmatic.

I quieted myself and held back until destination. I checked on my cellphone and rashly hovered to see whose one message that might be. To find out sadly, it was one damn chain message. I knew I was expecting a message from someone. 

To aggravate the conundrum I was enduring, the vehicle where I was sitting for dozens of minutes, got its tire flat at the right front part, in the middle of dusky, bumpy road. The driver who was corpulent, apparent to his big soiled red shirt and bulky breadbasket, went out of his throne and started cussing out words. I would have scoffed at him in the first place for not slowing down. After all there is nothing to speed about. Like relationships that wear out so easily. The more you urge to push the boundaries, the more it gets loose. 

The music turned off, trying to make comfy, the backseat driver said that everything will be alright. They have a spare and this is just a trifle hitch to handle. The cold drowsy night shifted into fierce, scorching mood by fellow passengers. “Witty,” I said to myself, “How auspicious we glued ourselves with such inconvenience.” To think it was my bad day. As minutes frittering away, other passengers becoming smothered, on the spur of moment, a typical light afar from us was drawing near. “Am I dreaming again?” I boldly asked. Now I could visualize and hear a truck horning, constantly coming but not pulling over. I could not think but to bawl, “get out!” until the raging vehicle crushed us.

to be continued....