Showing posts with label a love like that. Show all posts
Showing posts with label a love like that. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

complete randomness..


---- the last time i had actually taken a leap is considered to be one of my downfalls; the last time that i actually tried being unusual in their point of view was the first time i had completely felt good of being so normal. At certain point in life when I practically did what i thought would make me happy was technically the period of confusion,of evident contrasts, of melancholy.

---- permanence is merely an illusion -- such as no one can permanently be considered happy nor be considered permanently sad. Even love does not stay permanently and liking is really more of temporariness.

---- perfection has only been a borrowed word from no where, just an add-on for vocabulary, for no one has the right to claim such since the true essence of it continues to be unknown--unfathomable,indecipherable.

---- known to the impossibility of nirvana, of life's perfection, justifies complaints, as one cannot get thing easily, rises the high probability of disappointments, of attempts to make things work but to no avail, ergo, giving up.

---- on the verge of giving up,and with the the help of a moving theme song playing in the background, drama follows.the part where one can be so vulnerable, that default desperation and hopelessness would make one think of the desire to end everything, when everything would sometime includes the very reason of living.

---- living is about surviving, of catching breath after a sprint, of sneezing after smelling the fragrance of the flower, of dreaming that you are dreaming while you are asleep, of enjoying the spontaneity of laughter that would eventually bring tears, of choosing love regardless of multiple death as it often makes a heart stops to beat.

---- With love,one feels normal, of being mortal,of being alive.Glad I jumped. :)

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

I + FLAGER = FRAGILE


I like his voice; I like his silence
I like his soft smile and his puckered brows
I like him to the extent I overlooked standards
Since I like liking him…I liked him even more.

And then I loved him
I loved him wordlessly; I loved him in private
I loved him that only my soul knows
I loved him while he may possibly adore others…

Since I loved him
My heart was broken; but I could only let him go
There’s nothing I can do, other than to move on,
I’m stupid, heart-broken, troubled
Hopeless and down...






Monday, August 3, 2009

AM-ish/ PM-ish SYNDROME


I am infected with the 5 to 7 pm-ish syndrome and yesterday, was diagnosed Stage 4. Yes, it’s a rare disease and for some who don’t know about it would never get a chance to understand it. Science might have a better explanation for all the signs that are being manifested, but, the treatment can only be given by someone who are not medically inclined, but by someone humane and truly concerned.

The syndrome actually varies. If, I would be given a chance to name “it,” I would call it the AM-ish/ PM-ish syndrome. Signs and symptoms might differ except for one manifestation which is obvious. That is the fear of being alone on a particular time.

I don’t have any idea as to the incubation period of this. I might have acquired it here in Manila.
In Naga, I don’t remember dreading for the 5 o’clock class for it was my time to see my law super friends. I would patiently and would even willingly cook dinner and wait from 6 pm to 7 pm, for Mom, my brother or sister to arrive from school, (which only means, I don’t like the Prof or simply skipped class ) I enjoy watching school kids pass through our home who never missed to annoy , Spunkie- our dog. I don’t even care if I feel so domesticated; folding my clean clothes/fix or tidy up the living room, as I positively let the sun set.

The least right I have now is to complain as to my living condition here in Manila. I am extremely lucky to have an exceptional room, with a cozy bathroom with mini-tub. With the modern touch of architecture, I am more like living in a condominium for FREE. We are three single ladies living in a 4-storey house. The ground floor is the manpower agency office. Part of the second floor is used for the trainings. That is where I get my free massage and free nail art. The other part of the second floor is with cubicles for the Managers. Since both of the Managers are in Abu Dhabi, I use Tita Sarah’s cubicle for my “review.” That is also the best site for the fastest internet connection since it has the router in it. The building is actually wi-fi ready, but as one goes up, the signal becomes low. The residence is at the third floor. Then they have the laundry area at the roof top. I had basically tried putting out all my paraphernalia and props, with every table available. I tried the mezzanine, the training room, the living room, the veranda. But I must say that Richard’s room (my temporary room since Richard is in Abu Dhabi too) turned out to be my Manila crib, the only space that tolerates my strangeness.

Both of my housemates work for the manpower agency at the ground floor for my Tita Sarah,( the owner). They go down around 8 AM, would have lunch around 12 and call it a day usually at 8 PM. I have the whole second and third floor for myself most of the time. I do cook for lunch. I use it as a break and just a means to get away with boredom or stress. And as a routine, like a duty assigned to me, I call my housemates after I prepare lunch for them, through the intercom ( Yes, I am that secluded that I have to use the intercom, but would sometime just yell out their names for some sort of release) I visit them at the office sometimes- to do paper works, read summons, communicate with the lawyer, or purely to give some express amusement . The office’s PC is also the best remedy of not being trapped or fixed with the internet. All I can do with the office’s PC is to check my mail. Aware of my limited time, I will not be tempted to stay hours online.

I like it when there are trainees. I love meeting people. I learn a lot from them - from gay lingo, to tele-seryes and real life stories. I usually spend like hours or so with them and would usually end my days with a good laugh, with hope and admiration.
Things are essentially normal. After the review classes, I struggled to follow a schedule. Yet now I have a chase to do. Compared to the others, I had been so slow. I am inspired, no question about it. I am overwhelmed with encouragement and support from family, friends, and acquaintances (which as a matter of fact brought me to tears in two separate occasions- first was when Manong Guard at the Supreme Court, checked my bag, got my ID, asked if my petition’s OK and then gave me the sincerest wish of luck and when Manang Yosi, after having a short conversation with her, eagerly offered to include me in her prayers.)

Although I’m enduring a self afflicted heart-ache ( I’ll post the article when I am ready), I “believe” that I am completely in control. Let’s just say I have it “my own way”. (And whatever way it is, the competence of it will only be known about 8 months from now.)

I had turned down invitations from my friends: the trip to Baguio with Monica, (which made me cry for guilt, it was the plan for her birthday ), the trip to Davao with Vangie, weekends at Cavite, ON at KNL, “mahaba-haba at mausok na usapan” with Hannah, Movies plus chat with Pat, Sumptuous dinner with Gen, spiced up conversations with Jigs, Photoshoot with Peachy and Maja, concerts, beaches and other getaways. Aside from the reason that I don’t have work now and that I’m back to my Dad’s full scholarship program, I just don’t want my friends to see me in the “not-so-Flager- Sweet” mood.

The funny and weird thing is that I regularly experience this deep emotion, the so called “not-so-Flager-Sweet” mood, periodically, around 5 to 7 PM and I don’t know why…

Maybe I am tensed. I am stressed not because of September but because of the thought of what I am going through right now. But as friend would always say, ‘it will all come to pass’. Maybe he’s right, there can be no way now to avoid September. And what should be done should be done. It’s just like saying, what two hours of infection is when you are given another twenty two hours of immunity… what is the remaining two months after surviving the past four months… what is a little amount of sacrifice, if those sacrifices would be a way to help others and hopefully put people you love in bliss.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

ONE NEED NOT BE A WRITER...


One need not be a writer to write for readers, who are learned to comprehend.
Thoughts, put into words, written, read, perceived freely.
Superfluity noticed; even deficiency won’t get away.
Scholar rationalizes, criticizes for ambiguity.
Welcomes absurdity,
Contentedly sees fault while desperately seeks perfection.


One need not be a writer to write for readers, who understand to live
A prose of complexity can be grasped with ease
For when reasons are foreign, sensibility works,
Experiences clarify; lead to think out of the box.
Accepts familiarity,
Yet, incessantly discern flaws while candidly defies nation.


One need not be a writer to write for readers who live to love
Words are futile, complexity worsen,
Reasons become strange, stupidity reigns
Mental power – irrelevant, as scholar becomes dumb!
As when one recognizes absurdity of experience
Emotions pour, vulnerability surfaces, so one defies perfection.


One need not be a writer…
To be a reader,
To comprehend,
To live, and to
Love.

Of Being A Fan

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