Thursday, October 25, 2012

That Gotye Song

These past few weeks, I convinced myself that I have already forgotten you. Besides, three months have already passed and I supposed that both of us had already given each other enough time to try to at least settle conflicts that have arisen between us. Our differences, and the vast margin that has become visible after the break up was unfortunately unfix-able and I told myself that I have already accepted this fact and though the road to recovery is am insurmountable hill, I was ready to climb it with much grace as possible.

However, you unfriending me on Facebook yesterday proved how much of a fairy tale the past few weeks had been. I cannot deny the fact that I am extremely affected by your actions. I wanna tell myself that it's okay. You're no longer part of my life anyway. And maybe that is your way of healing your wounds-if you really had any, and of getting yourself back into shape. And I respect that. Honest. I really respect that.

Siguro hindi ko lang matanggap na I am no longer part of your life. I am no more than a stranger you once knew now. And that is one role that I do not want to play. I know. I sound pathetic. But I can't help it. You've become extremely important.

I can only pray that there will come a day when you will welcome me back into your life. A friend at least. An old friend. But that's a story I can only dream of at the moment.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

I Wish I Had A Typewriter

The canvas is bleach white and from time to time, a few stray words and letters blemish it's perfection. It's one of those days when you just stare blankly at the screen and pray that some ancient Greek Muse will slap you with inspiration and enable you to write about something, anything. 

Tap. Tap. Blah. Tap. Tap. Tap. Blah. Blah. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Blah. Blah. Blah. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Blah.

This is actually one reason why I falter at the idea of single-blessedness. My life is a bore and without a love life to spark fireworks and bitter tears, there's really nothing to write about. I'm an ordinary boy living an ordinary life and I doubt being ordinary will flicker anyone's interest.

Maybe I'm just being narrow-minded. I suppose everybody has stories to tell and it is of course a writer's challenge to pique a reader's interest or bring incredible insight to day to day encounters. Maybe I'm simply not good enough at telling stories-who knows. Or maybe I'm too engrossed at the monotony of my everyday life that I simply do not see the insights.

One thing is clear though. My idea of good stories are odes to love found, love lost and love remembered. There's nothing really wrong with that but I guess it's time to leaf through new pages and explore new ventures.

And yes. I wish I had a typewriter.

Sunday, October 21, 2012


1. Taking the Civil Service Examinations this morning was a giant blur on my forehead. Most of the items were difficult and I took it with profound courage despite my unpreparedness. And yes, through the grace of God,  I was able to finish the 170-item exam unscathed except for the blue ink on my thumbmark which is quite challenging to wash off. 

Now I must simply take a deep breath and let God do His magic.

2. We ate at Mang Inasal's after four days of home-cooked meals. Not that there's something wrong with it. I'm just saying that I missed fastfoood! It's not healthy to eat it daily though-which is a known fact. But it's a luxury that I'll always look forward for.

3. Attended a wedding at around 3:00PM after hours of selecting jeans that my Aunt will wear at the event. Seriously. I'm gay and all. But oooh may gulay. I had to stand up for hours waiting for her to finally pick up something.

Anyway, the wedding was beautiful. Beautiful bride. Beautiful groom. Beautiful food. Just makes me wanna think of beautiful stuff and prevent myself from getting goosebumps all over. I know. I'm dramatic. But weddings simply make me cry.

They had a chocolate fountain at the reception that I undoubtedly lavished myself in. Banana dipped in chocolate is j'adore. That, I think was the highlight of my day.

Much l♥ve,


Saturday, October 20, 2012

California Dreaming

Boys with polariod cams and fur coats and feathered hair.
And a sunny splat of boulevard that stretch the entirety of my vision.
The night was Friday
and the lustful waves of dusk was a batting of drums,
an ancient ritual when teenagers and young adults
come out at night to play and smoke weed and shag boys
and do crazy stuff with other teenagers and young adults.
A blanket of stars slowly kisses the day away
and the shy moon glows silently in the East.
Your motorcycle is a monster at night.
And it's engine was the solitary serenade the desert sings.
Your leather jacket, studded,
an inglorious banner, waves through the air
as I watched you travel that sunny splat of boulevard that stretch the entirety of my vision.
Boys with polariod cams and fur coats and feathered hair began dancing
and I, too, danced as a pillar of fire burns the last few streaks of wood we gathered earlier.
Charcoal and smoke filled the air.

My attempts at dreamy poetry

Thursday, October 18, 2012

The Birthday Wishlist

Unlike normal folks. I don't normally get jittery and Christmas-y when the '-ber' months come along. One of the reasons is that it's way too early and the second is that I've got a birth date to think of (11-15-92). Anyway, like last year, here's a random list of wishes that I'd like to have before I leave my teen years. But unlike last year's list, let's hope this one gets a happy ending, okay?

And let's face it. This is totally legal. A word of caution though, some of these are entirely ambitious. So, uhm, enjoy?

1. Clothes, shoes, bags and a camera to finally uplift that fashion career. 

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

A Russian Red Song

Apparently, love is not the only happiness one can chase. Sometimes there is joy in turmoil, it allows you to tap into your soul, to succumb deep in it's abyss and just let melancholy pour into chorus-a cornucopia of songs, novels and write ups.

And that no matter how incredibly weary you are of the sadness, a desiccation of every inch of your being, you still cling on to the God-forsaken memories. Nostalgia and memory are bitches. Yet you use them to propel your literary desires and satiate that unquenchable thirst for monumental poetry.

You abhor this emotion. And yes. It's official. He has become your addiction.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Stone Cold Sober

The backdrop was a chorus of dogs howling and the faint moon, hidden by a thin veil of clouds peeks through the window, illuminating the dark room.

He was never the party boy. And though some of his friends are raving about this Friday night, getting high and drunk, having the fvcking time of their lives, he lays still in his bed. He never liked getting wasted. Yes, he has the occasional cheap beers and wines, but not on a regular basis that he finds it sordidly absurd to have scheduled dates of drunkenness. There simply is no logic in alcohol.

And as he contemplates at the sheer "boredom" his simple life is, he also notices the pointlessness of this entry and how cold his coffee has become.

Now if only we had coffee bars here.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012


You are.
This feeling.
It all boils back to you.
Everything that you do.
Everything that you are.
Everything that we've done.
Everything we could have done.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

The Last Lap

October. And the breeze marched through the plains, kissing your cheeks as your galloped to school that morning. It was the week after he told you that he wants you back after two months and so-so of you mourning and weeping, and he, gallivanting and partying late nights.

The usual questions, "Why does he want me back?", "Did he love me all this time and what happened between us was simply pride stifling our cores?", "What happened to us?" and others, became the subject of your thoughts for the past few days that your usual low school performance skyrocketed to an even lower level.

Let's face it. You love him. But the sheer idea of having him back and having to go through all the pains of being in a relationship scared you that you asked him to give you time to think before deciding.

It would have been a yes. You would've just jumped into the wagon again. And by now you would've been worrying about to where to do stuff, what stuff to give him, and what stuff would make him even happier.

But you weren't able to jump into the wagon.

He was a no-show on the day of your supposed talk. You learned that he was partying only after you called him. And you got hurt because he simply didn't had the decency to at least give you a heads up of what's going to, and not going to, happen.

Again, the neglect he gave you poisoned your chest. You remembered those horrific nights when you were still together. You remembered the painful moments when you wanted his time and attention and what little he could give.

You consoled yourself by telling yourself that you're fine without him-even if you're not, even if he lives in your thoughts, even if your blog is all about him and the things he do. You told yourself that if he wants you back, he'll exert the necessary efforts. You told yourself that if you are meant to be, you really are meant to be. But even these thoughts provide nothing but false hopes and wishful thinking.

The last lap. It's almost  three months. Let's just hope you can move on by then, 'kay?

Much love,


Monday, October 1, 2012

Spirited Away

Fly me across
the rivers that ran through the earth.
And let me touch the fingertips of your soul
with longing and anticipation
that we may burst in ethereal bliss,
no matter how ephemeral all this may seem.

Let the wind gallop in our ears.
Let it hum its gentle lullabies.
Let our love overflow like it always has, had.

And let me drown in this dreaming. 
vi: Spirited Away

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