Monday, October 4, 2010
Break-up
there comes a time when "future" became part of your past... Then, one day, another future will come again to become your present that will sweep you off your feet and much worthy than the last one...
Thursday, September 9, 2010
thoughts of a developer...
Life is like a program, there's a problem you need to analyze. Then you plan for it and design it very well. When all the requirements and designs are done,you start the coding. During the coding phase, we encountered errors and these spiced up your program. Coding takes time unless you design it perfectly. But, as most people said, there is no such thing as perfect in this world, only perfect intentions. As long as it serves its purpose, the program will always be perfect for the problem. when coding is done, you need to test it. Usually, bugs are found in this phase but then as you debug and fix the problems and errors that occurred, most of the errors can be eliminated. Then, after the errors and problems that you'd faced, there it is. The program you just created will be release, fresh but full of experiences.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Gitara
lalapit sayo’t sasamahan ka
mayamaya pa’y kakalungin ka
at ang kanta’y sisimulan na
katawan mong pagal aking hahaplusin
sa yakap ika’y aking pupuspusin
mga daliring hindi na mapigilan
nasasabik nang ika’y kanyang dampian
sandaling dampian ka ng aking mga daliri
sa iyong makikintab na labi
anim man itong pilit na kakapain
tunog mong dala’y sasabayan pa rin
ngunit kahit anong sabay aking gawin
pilit na pinagsasalita ang iyong mga labi
hanggang ngayo’y di ko pa rin mawari
tunog na sambit aking di mabatid
wala na nga sa ating nangyayari
sinasambit mo’y di talaga mawari
tunog na nais ay di makamit
nang mga daliring kumakalabit
tutal wala na rin nmang nagbabago
wala na rin namang nabubuo
mabuti pang ihiga na lang kita sa kama
at hahayaan na lang ulit na mag-isa
mas mabuti nga siguro tigilan ko na
ang kahibangang ito
ang masabayan ka ay isang panaginip
panaginip na malabo ng mangyari pa
at sa saglit ngang ika’y aking iiwanan
nangangahulugan ba ito ng iyong paglisan
dahil ikakatakot kong makita
matinding sakit na aking madarama
ang tanging hiling ko sa iyo sa iyong paglisan
maging totoo dahil ang pinakamahirap sa mga ito
ay ang ika’y iwanan ko
-November 9, 2007
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
the way of losing yourself...
It's Friday and here i am, doomed in the dark, feeling emotional.
I thought all things will not be the same after years of having myself suffer from other's disparging eyes. Yet this day i felt again those eyes, those eyes that once judged my entire life.
I thought all things will not be the same after years of having myself suffer from other's disparging eyes. Yet this day i felt again those eyes, those eyes that once judged my entire life.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
it will..someday :)
"it's hard to start a new chapter of your life but putting an end to it was the hardest..."
wala lang. bigla na naman kasing may pumasok sa utak ko at yan yung mga katagang yan...
It's a long weekend but i'm here stuck in my room, lying and watching movies.
Di pa ba ko sanay?
Yan ang tanong ko sa sarili ko..
One year na since I've been here in Manila. But still I'm longing for my friends. I'm missing them so badly.
Normally, with long weekends like this, we normally hang-out, drink ourselves to death, chat magdamagan, at asaran ng walang humpay. Hindi boring pag kasama mo mga kaibigan mo.
Kaso, hindi laging ganun ang buhay...
Hindi laging saya,... We need to take responsibilities as we grow older.
Hindi man for our family, but for our own self na rin.
Ganun talaga. We need to face the fact that life will not be forever happy-go-lucky.
We need to sacrifice something before something good happens.
Life is full of tradeoffs. If we don't sacrifice anything, we will not receive any.
Kaya ngayon, kailangan ko harapin ang mundong ito.
A world full of surprises.
Maybe one day, God will surprise me...
It's just a way of God to test me.
wala lang. bigla na naman kasing may pumasok sa utak ko at yan yung mga katagang yan...
It's a long weekend but i'm here stuck in my room, lying and watching movies.
Di pa ba ko sanay?
Yan ang tanong ko sa sarili ko..
One year na since I've been here in Manila. But still I'm longing for my friends. I'm missing them so badly.
Normally, with long weekends like this, we normally hang-out, drink ourselves to death, chat magdamagan, at asaran ng walang humpay. Hindi boring pag kasama mo mga kaibigan mo.
Kaso, hindi laging ganun ang buhay...
Hindi laging saya,... We need to take responsibilities as we grow older.
Hindi man for our family, but for our own self na rin.
Ganun talaga. We need to face the fact that life will not be forever happy-go-lucky.
We need to sacrifice something before something good happens.
Life is full of tradeoffs. If we don't sacrifice anything, we will not receive any.
Kaya ngayon, kailangan ko harapin ang mundong ito.
A world full of surprises.
Maybe one day, God will surprise me...
It's just a way of God to test me.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
He is the past. You are the future.
The first one to give in to his/her feelings, doesn’t necessarily lose, but is the person prone to get hurt. There’s nothing wrong with this. Just keep in mind that giving yourself to that person already gives him/her the right to hurt you. So be careful, don’t give in too easily. (Take it from me, it hurts like hell.)
Every moment of pain, weakness, and discomfort puts you in a positon to choose how you will react and how you will alleviate your condition. Calling him doesn’t make it better.. it only pulls you back into the cycle of heartbreak. He is the past. You are the future. -
It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken(by Greg Behrendt and Amira Ruotola-Behrendt)
Every moment of pain, weakness, and discomfort puts you in a positon to choose how you will react and how you will alleviate your condition. Calling him doesn’t make it better.. it only pulls you back into the cycle of heartbreak. He is the past. You are the future. -
It’s Called a Breakup Because It’s Broken(by Greg Behrendt and Amira Ruotola-Behrendt)
Monday, August 23, 2010
Sugar Packets
Contributed by soultrainchick (Edited by blue_kuko)
Sunday, September 03, 2006 @ 12:00:07 AM
(from peyups.com)
She watched the rain through the glass panel. Some hurled themselves against the pane then splashed off as tiny pieces, some came down as rivulets that formed little roads and branches. She watched the world go by below her as she sat sipping a cold, chocolate drink amidst Billie Holiday’s mournful coos. She stared as people huddled into the nearest shelters. A few went inside the coffee shop as the horizon turned into gray ink, spilling over the streets and turning into sheets of water. Soon, save for the cars, trucks and public commute, the road was bereft of life.
She had sugarless coffee back at her office desk that morning because she ran out of those packets she stole from coffee shops and restaurants. She helped herself to a handful whenever an opportunity presented itself. Maybe she wasn’t the only one because the shops have stopped giving out complimentary cream and sugar substitutes too. But she invested P120.00 on coffee. Surely, the packets don’t cost half as much.
She sipped her drink in a languid manner as she stared at somewhere and nowhere in particular. A car’s roof, top of peoples’ heads as they ducked for cover. She loved to space out this way sometimes. She’d take a seat with a good view of the street to just watch.
She’s not the type who’d take the smallest table in an inconspicuous corner at all. She always preferred those big coaches that occupy a large space even when she was alone, this way she’d get maximum comfort and elbowroom. She started doing this when she noticed how people avoided those who sat by themselves, particularly those that stared into space --- and occupied the largest space. It’s as if they half expected her to rock back and forth and start crashing her skull against the nearest wall. But who cares what they thought?
And nobody cared about what she thought either. Not anyone she had hoped would. Not the man now, not the man before him. She’d try to tell them something, anything she thought would be of interest to them as a way to deepen what they had, but they always met her suggestions with a shrug or a mumble. The only topic that seemed to get their undivided attention was sex. And she’s so tired pretending to be somebody’s whore just to get her hands at some connection. She’s tired having to play at that game, yet that was the only way they would pay her any mind. They never listened to her when she told them of her frustrations, or of the latest book she has read nor of the latest movie she saw.
”There is nothing for me but to love you, and the way you look, tonight”, Tony Benett said about someone. At a far corner, a man looked deeply into a girl’s eyes as they grappled for and engaged each other’s hands. ”Get a room. That’s what all that attention’s for, lady. Believe me.”, she mused. Meanwhile, Tony Benett insisted on true love. She couldn’t care less. She couldn’t understand where all this love is coming from anyway.
She had once believed in it. She thought that if she pampered a guy enough and set aside her own strength to be submissive to one person, that if she gave her whole being to it, she’d be loved in return. She had once dreamed of becoming a princess in one of those storybook lives she grew up with. She once thought she’d bask in the glow of someone’s undivided attention one day. That people someone cared for actually kept their promises. But no, her heart was never enough.
Not for the former guy to whom she was willing to give up the whole world for, never mind that he wore hearts on a string and that hers was not even one of those hearts but a mere joke. Not even the guy who offered her honesty. This same guy who somehow managed to melt her heart and made her believe in the concept of love after that terrible fall with the practical joker. Whether they drove a car or took the public transport, whether they were tall or short, whether they took her to some posh restaurant or to an open field on a star-filled night, it didn’t matter. They never were genuinely interested in her.
She had wanted to tell this recent guy that she thought of him often. She had wanted to be like Tony Benett and tell the whole world she has found love or at least pretended she had, but all she could ever do was to sing the blues with Billie Holiday. So who cares if she had anything important to say? Not the group who discussed networking to her left, not the two giggling girls in front of her, not the couple who made out at the farthest corner, not the drenched, long-haired guy who spat near a post below. And certainly not him. Not after he made it clear he didn’t want to take their relationship further (she always knew he was sincere). Not a single man she had wanted to take seriously.
Or maybe she hasn’t found real love yet, that’s what her friends always tell her anyway. But maybe she never will. Maybe she will never be taken seriously. But who cares? She hadn’t come to this coffee shop to brood about it either. Nor to assess if she was strong enough to walk away from him and that star-filled night he gave her. And his promises. And his soothing words. Not the way he traced his fingers along the sides of her face, not even the gentleness by which his lips met hers or the way his strong arms warmed her during so many rainy nights. No, she wasn’t just struggling to keep herself intact as she braced herself for another relationship that is doomed to crash against a solid wall. Not now. Not when she has learned to believe.
She sat transfixed at nowhere in particular not to think about anything at all. She never even had an idea what brought her there. She felt at her pocket for something that stung her waist. Ah yes. The sugar packets. She needed a fresh supply of sugars and cream for her morning coffee.
The droplets now came in drizzles as hints of bright blue plastered themselves across the horizon. She took a sip from her drink without taking her eyes off the street and managed a long, slurping sound. She stared down at her plastic cup as if seeing it for the first time and placed it slowly down the table. Nothing but ice. The rains have let up, she figured it was time to get going.
Sunday, September 03, 2006 @ 12:00:07 AM
(from peyups.com)
She watched the rain through the glass panel. Some hurled themselves against the pane then splashed off as tiny pieces, some came down as rivulets that formed little roads and branches. She watched the world go by below her as she sat sipping a cold, chocolate drink amidst Billie Holiday’s mournful coos. She stared as people huddled into the nearest shelters. A few went inside the coffee shop as the horizon turned into gray ink, spilling over the streets and turning into sheets of water. Soon, save for the cars, trucks and public commute, the road was bereft of life.
She had sugarless coffee back at her office desk that morning because she ran out of those packets she stole from coffee shops and restaurants. She helped herself to a handful whenever an opportunity presented itself. Maybe she wasn’t the only one because the shops have stopped giving out complimentary cream and sugar substitutes too. But she invested P120.00 on coffee. Surely, the packets don’t cost half as much.
She sipped her drink in a languid manner as she stared at somewhere and nowhere in particular. A car’s roof, top of peoples’ heads as they ducked for cover. She loved to space out this way sometimes. She’d take a seat with a good view of the street to just watch.
She’s not the type who’d take the smallest table in an inconspicuous corner at all. She always preferred those big coaches that occupy a large space even when she was alone, this way she’d get maximum comfort and elbowroom. She started doing this when she noticed how people avoided those who sat by themselves, particularly those that stared into space --- and occupied the largest space. It’s as if they half expected her to rock back and forth and start crashing her skull against the nearest wall. But who cares what they thought?
And nobody cared about what she thought either. Not anyone she had hoped would. Not the man now, not the man before him. She’d try to tell them something, anything she thought would be of interest to them as a way to deepen what they had, but they always met her suggestions with a shrug or a mumble. The only topic that seemed to get their undivided attention was sex. And she’s so tired pretending to be somebody’s whore just to get her hands at some connection. She’s tired having to play at that game, yet that was the only way they would pay her any mind. They never listened to her when she told them of her frustrations, or of the latest book she has read nor of the latest movie she saw.
”There is nothing for me but to love you, and the way you look, tonight”, Tony Benett said about someone. At a far corner, a man looked deeply into a girl’s eyes as they grappled for and engaged each other’s hands. ”Get a room. That’s what all that attention’s for, lady. Believe me.”, she mused. Meanwhile, Tony Benett insisted on true love. She couldn’t care less. She couldn’t understand where all this love is coming from anyway.
She had once believed in it. She thought that if she pampered a guy enough and set aside her own strength to be submissive to one person, that if she gave her whole being to it, she’d be loved in return. She had once dreamed of becoming a princess in one of those storybook lives she grew up with. She once thought she’d bask in the glow of someone’s undivided attention one day. That people someone cared for actually kept their promises. But no, her heart was never enough.
Not for the former guy to whom she was willing to give up the whole world for, never mind that he wore hearts on a string and that hers was not even one of those hearts but a mere joke. Not even the guy who offered her honesty. This same guy who somehow managed to melt her heart and made her believe in the concept of love after that terrible fall with the practical joker. Whether they drove a car or took the public transport, whether they were tall or short, whether they took her to some posh restaurant or to an open field on a star-filled night, it didn’t matter. They never were genuinely interested in her.
She had wanted to tell this recent guy that she thought of him often. She had wanted to be like Tony Benett and tell the whole world she has found love or at least pretended she had, but all she could ever do was to sing the blues with Billie Holiday. So who cares if she had anything important to say? Not the group who discussed networking to her left, not the two giggling girls in front of her, not the couple who made out at the farthest corner, not the drenched, long-haired guy who spat near a post below. And certainly not him. Not after he made it clear he didn’t want to take their relationship further (she always knew he was sincere). Not a single man she had wanted to take seriously.
Or maybe she hasn’t found real love yet, that’s what her friends always tell her anyway. But maybe she never will. Maybe she will never be taken seriously. But who cares? She hadn’t come to this coffee shop to brood about it either. Nor to assess if she was strong enough to walk away from him and that star-filled night he gave her. And his promises. And his soothing words. Not the way he traced his fingers along the sides of her face, not even the gentleness by which his lips met hers or the way his strong arms warmed her during so many rainy nights. No, she wasn’t just struggling to keep herself intact as she braced herself for another relationship that is doomed to crash against a solid wall. Not now. Not when she has learned to believe.
She sat transfixed at nowhere in particular not to think about anything at all. She never even had an idea what brought her there. She felt at her pocket for something that stung her waist. Ah yes. The sugar packets. She needed a fresh supply of sugars and cream for her morning coffee.
The droplets now came in drizzles as hints of bright blue plastered themselves across the horizon. She took a sip from her drink without taking her eyes off the street and managed a long, slurping sound. She stared down at her plastic cup as if seeing it for the first time and placed it slowly down the table. Nothing but ice. The rains have let up, she figured it was time to get going.
One year
One Year
Contributed by ako-si-eica (Edited by blue_kuko)
Tuesday, December 19, 2006 @ 02:27:00 PM
(from peyups.com)
Dearest,
Tomorrow, it will be a year. 365 days, 12 months, 52 weeks since the 18th of December 2004. It was a year ago on this day, that I was anticipating tomorrow. It was a year ago on this day that I was sure, very sure, that you loved me back. I kept thinking, tomorrow will be the day. It was a year ago, on this day, that I was sure I had made the right choice. I was in love, and for once, I wasn't going to regret it, because you loved me back, right?
It will be a year tomorrow when I was bursting with love, happiness, contentment -- every good thing imaginable. Everything was perfect that night, unless you count my mother getting mad at me (what's new?) because I arrived home late.
How you gave your Christmas gift to me was spectacular. Who would have guessed that a perfect day would end with a perfect night? Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that a simple thing like that was to be given under the stars. The only thing that would have made it more perfect than it already was was if you told me that you loved me, and will for all eternity. Sadly, that didn't happen.
A few months later I decided it was time to let go. I've waited for too long and nothing ever happened, so why should it happen then?
A few months after that, I found out that you fell in love with my ex-best friend. Well, you can just imagine how I felt after I found out. Like murder a thousand times over. I couldn't help thinking that if I hadn't left, would I be the one you loved and not her?
I look back on this time last year and I suddenly sigh involuntarily. Life now is so different from life back then. I don't even feel like I know myself anymore. This year just pales in comparison with the last.
Last year I helped put up our Christmas tree. This year, it is a week before Christmas and I have yet to feel its spirit. Last year, I became a better person because I met you again after I once did. This year, my attitude deteriorated. Last year, the glass was half full. This year, the glass is half empty.
Last year, I had love. This year, I have only memories.
Mere words cannot express how I felt for you. Truly, you were the first after he who I swore was the last. But who knows, maybe you aren't the last one. Maybe the last is somewhere out there, someone I'll meet on a busy street corner, or someone I've met ten years ago in the sandbox. Or, he's just a figment of my imagination, and love doesn't really exist.
I have moved on. Moreover, I have let go. Of you, of me, of what once was, and of what never will be.
But I have yet to find closure -- and I will when you answer just one last question. Call me what you want, but I sincerely refuse to believe that 'no' is not the answer.
Did you, even just for a split second, love me back?
Or were all those times you called, those love quotes you sent me, those endless, somewhat annoying text messages, those letters, meaningless?
Just answer me with a yes, and I shall forever let us go.
With all the love I can muster,
your Lilo
###############
Contributed by ako-si-eica (Edited by blue_kuko)
Tuesday, December 19, 2006 @ 02:27:00 PM
(from peyups.com)
Dearest,
Tomorrow, it will be a year. 365 days, 12 months, 52 weeks since the 18th of December 2004. It was a year ago on this day, that I was anticipating tomorrow. It was a year ago on this day that I was sure, very sure, that you loved me back. I kept thinking, tomorrow will be the day. It was a year ago, on this day, that I was sure I had made the right choice. I was in love, and for once, I wasn't going to regret it, because you loved me back, right?
It will be a year tomorrow when I was bursting with love, happiness, contentment -- every good thing imaginable. Everything was perfect that night, unless you count my mother getting mad at me (what's new?) because I arrived home late.
How you gave your Christmas gift to me was spectacular. Who would have guessed that a perfect day would end with a perfect night? Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that a simple thing like that was to be given under the stars. The only thing that would have made it more perfect than it already was was if you told me that you loved me, and will for all eternity. Sadly, that didn't happen.
A few months later I decided it was time to let go. I've waited for too long and nothing ever happened, so why should it happen then?
A few months after that, I found out that you fell in love with my ex-best friend. Well, you can just imagine how I felt after I found out. Like murder a thousand times over. I couldn't help thinking that if I hadn't left, would I be the one you loved and not her?
I look back on this time last year and I suddenly sigh involuntarily. Life now is so different from life back then. I don't even feel like I know myself anymore. This year just pales in comparison with the last.
Last year I helped put up our Christmas tree. This year, it is a week before Christmas and I have yet to feel its spirit. Last year, I became a better person because I met you again after I once did. This year, my attitude deteriorated. Last year, the glass was half full. This year, the glass is half empty.
Last year, I had love. This year, I have only memories.
Mere words cannot express how I felt for you. Truly, you were the first after he who I swore was the last. But who knows, maybe you aren't the last one. Maybe the last is somewhere out there, someone I'll meet on a busy street corner, or someone I've met ten years ago in the sandbox. Or, he's just a figment of my imagination, and love doesn't really exist.
I have moved on. Moreover, I have let go. Of you, of me, of what once was, and of what never will be.
But I have yet to find closure -- and I will when you answer just one last question. Call me what you want, but I sincerely refuse to believe that 'no' is not the answer.
Did you, even just for a split second, love me back?
Or were all those times you called, those love quotes you sent me, those endless, somewhat annoying text messages, those letters, meaningless?
Just answer me with a yes, and I shall forever let us go.
With all the love I can muster,
your Lilo
###############
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
kuwentong sabit
(from the blog of my favorite writer- noringai)
the whole story here
"ang tunay na pag-ibig, madalang lang ang biyahe niyan. kaya pag dumaan sa iyo, parahin mo, sumakay ka, kasi baka di na bumalik iyun, siguro nga, babalik pa, pero pano kung may sakay ng iba, sasabit ka na lang ba?"
finorward ito sa akin two years ago. hanggang ngayon, naka-save pa rin siya sa akin sa cellphone ko.
hindi ako sumasabit sa jeep pero last year, pinilit kong sumakay kahit na alam kong may nauna na sa akin. puno na ang sasakyan pero nagpumilit ako. baka lang kasi maka-puwesto ako. baka kasi mag-decide iyong driver na pababain iyong pasahero na nauna sa akin at ako na ang piliin.
for 14 months, i had a colorful ride, kahit na hindi ako sigurado kung ano mangyayari sa akin. basta masaya ako, that's what matters. di bale na nauuntog ako o nahihirapan dahil sa pakikipagsiksikan sa nauna na sa akin. di bale na kung maraming beses na syempre, dahil sabit lang ako, hindi ako ang priority ng driver. nag-kasya na ako sa hanggang san niya lang ako puwede ihatid, o kung gaano kaliit na space lang ang puwede niya mabigay sa akin. di ako puwede mag-reklamo kasi, pinili ko iyun. magtiis dapat ako.
pwede naman kasi ako bumaba at maghanap ng iba, pero hindi...kasi, umaasa kasi ako na baka magbago ang ihip ng hangin.
pero habang tumatagal, naiinip na ako. hanggang kelan ba ako sasabit? tapos, nalaman ko, aba, hindi pala ako nag-iisa. may kasama pala ako sa paghihintay na bumaba iyong isang pasahero. kaya na-threaten ako. and i decided na hindi puwedeng magsawalang-kibo na lang ako.
kaya nung tumagal-tagal, nagiging demanding na ako. na gusto ko, ako lagi nasusunod. sabit nga lang ako pero ako ang lagi nagde-decide kung san kami pupunta. tapos, nagagalit kapag hindi ko nakukuha ang gusto ko.
ang ending, dahil sa pagpupumilit kong sumakay, nahulog ako... nasaktan. pero ang mas masakit, iyong driver, pinababa ang pasaherong nauna sa akin, pero may iba naman na pinasakay. hindi iyong kasabay kong naghintay. iba pa! sabi, nauna daw sa amin iyong bagong pasahero. hindi ko lang napansin kasi nakasakay siya dati sa ibang jeep, lumipat lang.
pero ngayon, naisip ko, magaan kasi siya kaya siya ang pinili. para hindi mahirapan ang driver sa pag-pasada. leche. ako daw kasi, literally at figuratively, mabigat dalhin.
minsan nga naisip ko, sana, nung una pa lang, nilaglag na lang niya ako. sana hindi na umabot ng ilang buwan. di na sana ako pinaasa na ako lang ang magiging pasahero niya until the end. eh di sana, di nasayang ang oras ko. di sana, nakahanap ako ng ibang jeep na masasakyan. eh di sana, hindi ako masyadong nasaktan.
pero on the other hand, dahil sa nangyari, natuto ako na hindi na ako sasabit kahit kailan. maghihintay na lang ako ng bakanteng jeep. kung walang dumating, puwede naman mag bus o magtaxi, o kaya maglakad mag-isa.
-----------
darn,. i can relate!
the whole story here
"ang tunay na pag-ibig, madalang lang ang biyahe niyan. kaya pag dumaan sa iyo, parahin mo, sumakay ka, kasi baka di na bumalik iyun, siguro nga, babalik pa, pero pano kung may sakay ng iba, sasabit ka na lang ba?"
finorward ito sa akin two years ago. hanggang ngayon, naka-save pa rin siya sa akin sa cellphone ko.
hindi ako sumasabit sa jeep pero last year, pinilit kong sumakay kahit na alam kong may nauna na sa akin. puno na ang sasakyan pero nagpumilit ako. baka lang kasi maka-puwesto ako. baka kasi mag-decide iyong driver na pababain iyong pasahero na nauna sa akin at ako na ang piliin.
for 14 months, i had a colorful ride, kahit na hindi ako sigurado kung ano mangyayari sa akin. basta masaya ako, that's what matters. di bale na nauuntog ako o nahihirapan dahil sa pakikipagsiksikan sa nauna na sa akin. di bale na kung maraming beses na syempre, dahil sabit lang ako, hindi ako ang priority ng driver. nag-kasya na ako sa hanggang san niya lang ako puwede ihatid, o kung gaano kaliit na space lang ang puwede niya mabigay sa akin. di ako puwede mag-reklamo kasi, pinili ko iyun. magtiis dapat ako.
pwede naman kasi ako bumaba at maghanap ng iba, pero hindi...kasi, umaasa kasi ako na baka magbago ang ihip ng hangin.
pero habang tumatagal, naiinip na ako. hanggang kelan ba ako sasabit? tapos, nalaman ko, aba, hindi pala ako nag-iisa. may kasama pala ako sa paghihintay na bumaba iyong isang pasahero. kaya na-threaten ako. and i decided na hindi puwedeng magsawalang-kibo na lang ako.
kaya nung tumagal-tagal, nagiging demanding na ako. na gusto ko, ako lagi nasusunod. sabit nga lang ako pero ako ang lagi nagde-decide kung san kami pupunta. tapos, nagagalit kapag hindi ko nakukuha ang gusto ko.
ang ending, dahil sa pagpupumilit kong sumakay, nahulog ako... nasaktan. pero ang mas masakit, iyong driver, pinababa ang pasaherong nauna sa akin, pero may iba naman na pinasakay. hindi iyong kasabay kong naghintay. iba pa! sabi, nauna daw sa amin iyong bagong pasahero. hindi ko lang napansin kasi nakasakay siya dati sa ibang jeep, lumipat lang.
pero ngayon, naisip ko, magaan kasi siya kaya siya ang pinili. para hindi mahirapan ang driver sa pag-pasada. leche. ako daw kasi, literally at figuratively, mabigat dalhin.
minsan nga naisip ko, sana, nung una pa lang, nilaglag na lang niya ako. sana hindi na umabot ng ilang buwan. di na sana ako pinaasa na ako lang ang magiging pasahero niya until the end. eh di sana, di nasayang ang oras ko. di sana, nakahanap ako ng ibang jeep na masasakyan. eh di sana, hindi ako masyadong nasaktan.
pero on the other hand, dahil sa nangyari, natuto ako na hindi na ako sasabit kahit kailan. maghihintay na lang ako ng bakanteng jeep. kung walang dumating, puwede naman mag bus o magtaxi, o kaya maglakad mag-isa.
-----------
darn,. i can relate!
Monday, August 16, 2010
Crash Into Me
Contributed by bad_moon (Edited by amplifier)
Sunday, September 24, 2006 @ 12:02:07 AM
It started with a crash.
I guess everything somehow starts out this way, that, as mortals with brains that can only grasp so much, we're just not aware of the complexities of nature and physics and everything that we know that influence the lives of men around this blue sphere we call Earth.
Things colliding with varying degrees of force, it is in the heart of everything. It is in the heart of both creation and destruction. (Though it is said that matter cannot be created or destroyed; only transformed from one form into another, or so states the Law of Conservation of Matter, yet one can only be skeptical about these "Laws". So in this piece, with your permission, I move to suspend this Law and thus I continue with my almost incoherent rambling.)
Everything in this world is borne out of things bumping and smashing into each other. Immense quantities of energy are produced by the swirling, chaotic dance of atomic particles crashing into one another. Lives are ended when bullets and shrapnel run into vital organs.
The universe is one big bumper car ride and more often than not, these collisions leave marks that would last us for the rest of our forsaken lives. (I'm not really bitter, just being borderline psychotic, neurotic, and manic-depressive but not bitter. No, Good heavens, NO.)
This epiphany happened when your existence first crashed into my reality. You are a bowling ball bringing disorder to the orderly group of ten pins that is my life. You suddenly appeared without warning, very much like Germany's blitzkrieg invasion of Europe, and there's no way in hell that your commanding presence could go unnoticed. And like a Frenchman caught with his drawers around his ankles, a muffled "Sacre bleu!" was all I can utter in the face of such inevitability.
Pretty much like introducing a bullfrog to an alien ecosystem, everything was thrown off balance. Every routine, every habit, schedule, every time table I've planned you turned conveniently to crap. Instead of being alarmed, I was drawn even more so to that magnificent source of distraction, destruction and pain.
My days were soon filled with the constant bickering (You always looked so cute whenever you're annoyed so I tried to piss you off as best as I can), the smug swagger you'd do after I've given up and surrendered to your whims, the shrill, ear-piercing shriek as you sang, and the way you playfully smack the back of my neck for no apparent reason. Curiously though, these are the high points of my day.
Despite the harrowing carnage that you've wrought, I started to rebuild around you. I made you the agora of my new metropolis, very much akin to how a tree's bark grows over a deeply-driven nail.
Oblivious to the painful fact that deeply-driven nails can be forcefully removed, leaving the bark disfigured, and dying.
As sudden as your arrival was your departure, effectively transforming everything in my world into one beautiful, putrid, decrepit, twisted and twitching mass of emotional trauma. Such was your power over me. Someone who didn't take bull from anybody, you turned into a sniveling little boy. Someone who defied authority, you made into an obedient machine. Yet something tells me that I wouldn't want it any other way.
Now I believe, neurotic as it may seem, our time together was really brief, almost a split of a split second in a cosmic time scale of the universe. As instant as the moment of contact a bullet shares with a wall before ricocheting away. (Though some walls are lucky enough that some bullets get stuck). Our encounter was so brief and quick and instant that it shouldn't really matter. To further dwell on it is just a waste of time, oxygen and brain cells.
Why the title then? Why all the talk about crashes, collisions and impacts?
You are a 460mm shell fired off the massive guns of the legendary WWII battleship Yamato.
I am a wall of the first little pig's flimsy straw house.
And while you have decimated and obliterated me completely,
I wasn't able to manage even the slightest dent on you.
Sunday, September 24, 2006 @ 12:02:07 AM
It started with a crash.
I guess everything somehow starts out this way, that, as mortals with brains that can only grasp so much, we're just not aware of the complexities of nature and physics and everything that we know that influence the lives of men around this blue sphere we call Earth.
Things colliding with varying degrees of force, it is in the heart of everything. It is in the heart of both creation and destruction. (Though it is said that matter cannot be created or destroyed; only transformed from one form into another, or so states the Law of Conservation of Matter, yet one can only be skeptical about these "Laws". So in this piece, with your permission, I move to suspend this Law and thus I continue with my almost incoherent rambling.)
Everything in this world is borne out of things bumping and smashing into each other. Immense quantities of energy are produced by the swirling, chaotic dance of atomic particles crashing into one another. Lives are ended when bullets and shrapnel run into vital organs.
The universe is one big bumper car ride and more often than not, these collisions leave marks that would last us for the rest of our forsaken lives. (I'm not really bitter, just being borderline psychotic, neurotic, and manic-depressive but not bitter. No, Good heavens, NO.)
This epiphany happened when your existence first crashed into my reality. You are a bowling ball bringing disorder to the orderly group of ten pins that is my life. You suddenly appeared without warning, very much like Germany's blitzkrieg invasion of Europe, and there's no way in hell that your commanding presence could go unnoticed. And like a Frenchman caught with his drawers around his ankles, a muffled "Sacre bleu!" was all I can utter in the face of such inevitability.
Pretty much like introducing a bullfrog to an alien ecosystem, everything was thrown off balance. Every routine, every habit, schedule, every time table I've planned you turned conveniently to crap. Instead of being alarmed, I was drawn even more so to that magnificent source of distraction, destruction and pain.
My days were soon filled with the constant bickering (You always looked so cute whenever you're annoyed so I tried to piss you off as best as I can), the smug swagger you'd do after I've given up and surrendered to your whims, the shrill, ear-piercing shriek as you sang, and the way you playfully smack the back of my neck for no apparent reason. Curiously though, these are the high points of my day.
Despite the harrowing carnage that you've wrought, I started to rebuild around you. I made you the agora of my new metropolis, very much akin to how a tree's bark grows over a deeply-driven nail.
Oblivious to the painful fact that deeply-driven nails can be forcefully removed, leaving the bark disfigured, and dying.
As sudden as your arrival was your departure, effectively transforming everything in my world into one beautiful, putrid, decrepit, twisted and twitching mass of emotional trauma. Such was your power over me. Someone who didn't take bull from anybody, you turned into a sniveling little boy. Someone who defied authority, you made into an obedient machine. Yet something tells me that I wouldn't want it any other way.
Now I believe, neurotic as it may seem, our time together was really brief, almost a split of a split second in a cosmic time scale of the universe. As instant as the moment of contact a bullet shares with a wall before ricocheting away. (Though some walls are lucky enough that some bullets get stuck). Our encounter was so brief and quick and instant that it shouldn't really matter. To further dwell on it is just a waste of time, oxygen and brain cells.
Why the title then? Why all the talk about crashes, collisions and impacts?
You are a 460mm shell fired off the massive guns of the legendary WWII battleship Yamato.
I am a wall of the first little pig's flimsy straw house.
And while you have decimated and obliterated me completely,
I wasn't able to manage even the slightest dent on you.
Third Eye
Contributed by istaRr
(Edited by amplifier)
from peyups.com
Sigurado raw na mararamdaman mo kapag may multong malapit sa iyo. Tatayo ang balahibo sa batok mo... Biglang lalamig ang paligid... Iikot ang tiyan mo... Para kang biglang may kasama. May mararamdaman ka sa paligid mo kahit alam mong ikaw lang mag-isa.
Bata pa lang ako, matatakutin na ako. Takot ako sa dilim, humihina ako kapag mag-isa. Hindi ko rin kayang manood ng mga nakakatakot na palabas sa TV (gaya ng taunang November 1 special ng magandang gabi bayan), o mga pelikula (uso noon ang shake rattle and roll). Ang palagay ko, bakit mo pagdaraanin ang sarili mo sa nakapanlalambot na hilakbot? Mas lalong ayokong makakita, o makaramdam, o makaengkwentro ng multo. Hindi ko yata kakayanin. Baka himatayin ako sa takot. Hindi ko nga maintindihan 'yung mga taong sumasali pa sa mga workshop para buksan ang third eye nila. Bakit di ba? Bakit?! Pero siguro, ako lang talaga 'yun--- kulang sa tapang, liglig ng nerbiyos.
Hindi ko naiwan sa pagkabata ang takot ko sa dilim, at sa multo. Sa paglaki ko, nadagdagan pa nga ang mga takot ko--- tumaba, magka-cancer, bumagsak sa mga klase ko, at marami pang iba. Pero higit sa lahat ng mga ito, ang magmahal at masaktan. Natuklasan ko na hindi gaya ng takot ko sa mga multong ni hindi ko nga alam kung gawa sa hamog, o sa usok, o basta gawa lang ng imahinasyon ko--- mas nakapanghihina, mas nakapanghihilakbot pala ang magmahal at masaktan. Naranasan ko na iyon. Ang magmahal, mawalan, at halos mabaliw sa sakit. Nang mawala ka sa 'kin para akong sira-ulong ayaw maniwala at ayaw tumanggap, parang praning na ipinipilit sa sariling "babalik siya.... babalik siya."
May mga namamatayan ng kapamilya o kaibigan na sa tindi ng pangungulila, hinihiling nila na magmulto ang namayapa na. Hindi na mahalaga kung kahibangan ito--- mabigyan lang ng kahit isa pang pagkakataon na makausap o masilayan man lang ang mahal sa buhay na inagaw na ng kamatayan.
Nang nawala ka, handa akong ibigay ang lahat, ang kahit ano, bumalik ka lang kahit sandali. Kahit sa anong paraan. kahit isang maikling text lang, o e-mail, o friendster message. Maramdaman ko lang na kahit tapos na ang lahat, mahalaga pa rin ako sa iyo. Pero walang dumating. Ni hindi ka man lang nagparamdam. Kahit na parang ritwal ko nang tinatawag ang pangalan mo gabi-gabi, wala. Wala ka na talaga. Naging mas madali nga ang pagtanggap sa pumanaw nating pagkakataon, pero kasabay nito, mas naging mapait naman ang aking pag-aayuno.
Tuloy ang buhay. Kailangan e. Natuto akong magmahal ng iba at unti-unti ring nawala ang lungkot. Naniniwala rin naman akong mayroon akong karapatang maging masaya, at mas gusto kong ngumiti kaysa umiyak. Nariyan naman ang ala-ala mo, nariyan ang pag-ibig na kahit kailan ay hindi ko na maibibigay sa iba bukod sa iyo. Pero sabi nga ng idol kong si Sharon Cuneta, "once you love someone, you never stop loving them. you just love them in newer ways." (mula sa "kung ako na lang sana"). Habang nagmamahal ako ng bagong pag-ibig, patuloy pa rin kitang minamahal. Alam ko iyan. Naroon na rin siguro ang kaalamang dahil patay na nga ang panahon natin sa paningin ni kupido, hindi ko na kailangan buhayin pa ang sakit. Tanggap ko na. Paminsan minsan nga, dinadalaw pa ng diwa ko ang mga nakakalat na lapida ng ating nakaraan. Kapag nakakarating ako sa mga lugar na noo'y nakasama kita, kapag naririnig ko ang mga awit na pinili ko para sa 'ting dalawa--- para na rin akong nagtitirik ng kandila at nag-aalay ng bulaklak sa ala-ala mo.
Hanggang sa nagmulto ka. P*ksh*t.
Ang sabi nila, hindi tumatawid sa kabilang buhay ang mga espiritung may mga hindi pa tapos na misyon sa mundong ito. Pakiramdam nila, may mga transaksyon pa sila sa kanilang buhay na kailangang isara at maisakatuparan. Ang iba nga raw, hindi pa tanggap na patay na sila kaya ayaw pa umalis. palutang-lutang sila, patuloy ang "buhay", ginagawa pa rin ang mga pinagkakaabalahan nila noon. Ang iba naman, sadyang naghahasik ng takot at pangamba. Sadyang gustong makarinig ng mga tili at makakita ng nasindak na mga mukha habang nagsasabog sila ng lagim.
Simpleng text lang, umikot ang mundo ko. Hindi ko alam kung magdiriwang ako o manlulumo. Nakakatuwang nakakatakot e. Sa tagal ng panahon na hinintay kong maramdaman ka, hanggang sa nalimutan ko na nga kung bakit, hindi ko na alam kung ano ang reaksyon ko. Pero, napatunayan ko noon na totoo pala: kapag minulto ka, tatayo ang balahibo sa batok mo, manlalamig ka, iikot ang tiyan mo, at sigurado ka sa presensiya ng multo sa paligid mo.
"Nabuhay" kang muli sa mundo ko. Lagi ka na namang nariyan sa haraya ko. Pa’no, dumalas ka mag-text, tumatawag ka pa, paminsan minsan nagkakape pa tayo’t tumatawa habang nilulunod ang ating mga sarili sa venti mocha frap with mint syrup. Matagal na panahon akong nangulila ako sa iyo, kaya ang saya saya saya ko sa tuwing nariyan ka. Kahit paminsan-minsan. Kahit paunti-unti. Dahil nga mahal naman kita, tinanggap ko ang pagmumulto mo. Sabi ko, wala naman sigurong masama, pakiramdam ko pa nga ang tapang ko. Hinayaan ko nang bukas ang third eye ng puso ko.
Lubos na sana ang magiging kasiyahan ko kung tuluyan ang iyong pagbabalik... pero lagi ka rin namang nawawala. Hindi ko alam kung bakit ginagawa niyong mga multo iyon, parang gustong gusto niyong nagpaparamdam, manggugulat, tapos mawawala naman. Hindi ka naman nagtatagal sa mga dahilang ikaw lang ang nakaaalam. Noong simula hinihintay pa kita lagi, pero nakakapagod rin. Mahirap pala 'yun. Mahirap pala magmahal ng kaluluwa--- hindi kita mahawakan, hindi kita mayakap, hindi kita mahalikan. Malamig na hangin na lang ba talaga ang magiging katumbas ng pag-ibig ko?
Para sa mga taong may kakayahang makakita ng mga espiritu at ibang nilalang, wala raw ibang mas maiging gawin kundi tanggapin ito. Sumpa man o biyaya, hindi na mahalaga. May dahilan lahat ng bagay sa mundo. Baka nga paraan na rin ng Diyos na buksan ang ikatlong mata't ikaanim na pandama ng ilang tao sa mundo... mabigyan man lamang ng pagkakataon ang mga alagad ng kabilang buhay na marinig at maintindihan.
Mahal pa rin kita. Pakiramdam ko, alam mo naman iyon e, kaya ka nga matapang magmulto. Pero magkaiba na tayo ng mundo, marami nang nagbago. Hindi ko maintindihan kung bakit kailangan mong magparamdam gayong wala ka na rin namang kayang gawin na paraan upang tuluyang magbalik, upang muling mabuhay sa mundo ko. Nang-aasar ka lang ba talaga sa pagdalaw mo? Kung hindi, ano ba ang "unfinished business" mo? Ano bang maitutulong ko? Sapat na ba sa iyo ang ganito--- ang mahalin natin ang isa't isa sa magkabilang mundo, sa magkaibang paraan? Iyon lang kasi ang maibibigay ko. At alam ko... hanggang du'n lang rin ang kaya mo.
Patuloy na tatakbo ang buhay ko. At sa tuwing mumultuhin mo ako, ngingiti na lang ako. Oo, tatayo pa rin ang mga balahibo ko sa batok, manlalamig at iikot pa rin ang tiyan ko... Pero hindi na ako matatakot.
Hindi ka totoo.
(Edited by amplifier)
from peyups.com
Sigurado raw na mararamdaman mo kapag may multong malapit sa iyo. Tatayo ang balahibo sa batok mo... Biglang lalamig ang paligid... Iikot ang tiyan mo... Para kang biglang may kasama. May mararamdaman ka sa paligid mo kahit alam mong ikaw lang mag-isa.
Bata pa lang ako, matatakutin na ako. Takot ako sa dilim, humihina ako kapag mag-isa. Hindi ko rin kayang manood ng mga nakakatakot na palabas sa TV (gaya ng taunang November 1 special ng magandang gabi bayan), o mga pelikula (uso noon ang shake rattle and roll). Ang palagay ko, bakit mo pagdaraanin ang sarili mo sa nakapanlalambot na hilakbot? Mas lalong ayokong makakita, o makaramdam, o makaengkwentro ng multo. Hindi ko yata kakayanin. Baka himatayin ako sa takot. Hindi ko nga maintindihan 'yung mga taong sumasali pa sa mga workshop para buksan ang third eye nila. Bakit di ba? Bakit?! Pero siguro, ako lang talaga 'yun--- kulang sa tapang, liglig ng nerbiyos.
Hindi ko naiwan sa pagkabata ang takot ko sa dilim, at sa multo. Sa paglaki ko, nadagdagan pa nga ang mga takot ko--- tumaba, magka-cancer, bumagsak sa mga klase ko, at marami pang iba. Pero higit sa lahat ng mga ito, ang magmahal at masaktan. Natuklasan ko na hindi gaya ng takot ko sa mga multong ni hindi ko nga alam kung gawa sa hamog, o sa usok, o basta gawa lang ng imahinasyon ko--- mas nakapanghihina, mas nakapanghihilakbot pala ang magmahal at masaktan. Naranasan ko na iyon. Ang magmahal, mawalan, at halos mabaliw sa sakit. Nang mawala ka sa 'kin para akong sira-ulong ayaw maniwala at ayaw tumanggap, parang praning na ipinipilit sa sariling "babalik siya.... babalik siya."
May mga namamatayan ng kapamilya o kaibigan na sa tindi ng pangungulila, hinihiling nila na magmulto ang namayapa na. Hindi na mahalaga kung kahibangan ito--- mabigyan lang ng kahit isa pang pagkakataon na makausap o masilayan man lang ang mahal sa buhay na inagaw na ng kamatayan.
Nang nawala ka, handa akong ibigay ang lahat, ang kahit ano, bumalik ka lang kahit sandali. Kahit sa anong paraan. kahit isang maikling text lang, o e-mail, o friendster message. Maramdaman ko lang na kahit tapos na ang lahat, mahalaga pa rin ako sa iyo. Pero walang dumating. Ni hindi ka man lang nagparamdam. Kahit na parang ritwal ko nang tinatawag ang pangalan mo gabi-gabi, wala. Wala ka na talaga. Naging mas madali nga ang pagtanggap sa pumanaw nating pagkakataon, pero kasabay nito, mas naging mapait naman ang aking pag-aayuno.
Tuloy ang buhay. Kailangan e. Natuto akong magmahal ng iba at unti-unti ring nawala ang lungkot. Naniniwala rin naman akong mayroon akong karapatang maging masaya, at mas gusto kong ngumiti kaysa umiyak. Nariyan naman ang ala-ala mo, nariyan ang pag-ibig na kahit kailan ay hindi ko na maibibigay sa iba bukod sa iyo. Pero sabi nga ng idol kong si Sharon Cuneta, "once you love someone, you never stop loving them. you just love them in newer ways." (mula sa "kung ako na lang sana"). Habang nagmamahal ako ng bagong pag-ibig, patuloy pa rin kitang minamahal. Alam ko iyan. Naroon na rin siguro ang kaalamang dahil patay na nga ang panahon natin sa paningin ni kupido, hindi ko na kailangan buhayin pa ang sakit. Tanggap ko na. Paminsan minsan nga, dinadalaw pa ng diwa ko ang mga nakakalat na lapida ng ating nakaraan. Kapag nakakarating ako sa mga lugar na noo'y nakasama kita, kapag naririnig ko ang mga awit na pinili ko para sa 'ting dalawa--- para na rin akong nagtitirik ng kandila at nag-aalay ng bulaklak sa ala-ala mo.
Hanggang sa nagmulto ka. P*ksh*t.
Ang sabi nila, hindi tumatawid sa kabilang buhay ang mga espiritung may mga hindi pa tapos na misyon sa mundong ito. Pakiramdam nila, may mga transaksyon pa sila sa kanilang buhay na kailangang isara at maisakatuparan. Ang iba nga raw, hindi pa tanggap na patay na sila kaya ayaw pa umalis. palutang-lutang sila, patuloy ang "buhay", ginagawa pa rin ang mga pinagkakaabalahan nila noon. Ang iba naman, sadyang naghahasik ng takot at pangamba. Sadyang gustong makarinig ng mga tili at makakita ng nasindak na mga mukha habang nagsasabog sila ng lagim.
Simpleng text lang, umikot ang mundo ko. Hindi ko alam kung magdiriwang ako o manlulumo. Nakakatuwang nakakatakot e. Sa tagal ng panahon na hinintay kong maramdaman ka, hanggang sa nalimutan ko na nga kung bakit, hindi ko na alam kung ano ang reaksyon ko. Pero, napatunayan ko noon na totoo pala: kapag minulto ka, tatayo ang balahibo sa batok mo, manlalamig ka, iikot ang tiyan mo, at sigurado ka sa presensiya ng multo sa paligid mo.
"Nabuhay" kang muli sa mundo ko. Lagi ka na namang nariyan sa haraya ko. Pa’no, dumalas ka mag-text, tumatawag ka pa, paminsan minsan nagkakape pa tayo’t tumatawa habang nilulunod ang ating mga sarili sa venti mocha frap with mint syrup. Matagal na panahon akong nangulila ako sa iyo, kaya ang saya saya saya ko sa tuwing nariyan ka. Kahit paminsan-minsan. Kahit paunti-unti. Dahil nga mahal naman kita, tinanggap ko ang pagmumulto mo. Sabi ko, wala naman sigurong masama, pakiramdam ko pa nga ang tapang ko. Hinayaan ko nang bukas ang third eye ng puso ko.
Lubos na sana ang magiging kasiyahan ko kung tuluyan ang iyong pagbabalik... pero lagi ka rin namang nawawala. Hindi ko alam kung bakit ginagawa niyong mga multo iyon, parang gustong gusto niyong nagpaparamdam, manggugulat, tapos mawawala naman. Hindi ka naman nagtatagal sa mga dahilang ikaw lang ang nakaaalam. Noong simula hinihintay pa kita lagi, pero nakakapagod rin. Mahirap pala 'yun. Mahirap pala magmahal ng kaluluwa--- hindi kita mahawakan, hindi kita mayakap, hindi kita mahalikan. Malamig na hangin na lang ba talaga ang magiging katumbas ng pag-ibig ko?
Para sa mga taong may kakayahang makakita ng mga espiritu at ibang nilalang, wala raw ibang mas maiging gawin kundi tanggapin ito. Sumpa man o biyaya, hindi na mahalaga. May dahilan lahat ng bagay sa mundo. Baka nga paraan na rin ng Diyos na buksan ang ikatlong mata't ikaanim na pandama ng ilang tao sa mundo... mabigyan man lamang ng pagkakataon ang mga alagad ng kabilang buhay na marinig at maintindihan.
Mahal pa rin kita. Pakiramdam ko, alam mo naman iyon e, kaya ka nga matapang magmulto. Pero magkaiba na tayo ng mundo, marami nang nagbago. Hindi ko maintindihan kung bakit kailangan mong magparamdam gayong wala ka na rin namang kayang gawin na paraan upang tuluyang magbalik, upang muling mabuhay sa mundo ko. Nang-aasar ka lang ba talaga sa pagdalaw mo? Kung hindi, ano ba ang "unfinished business" mo? Ano bang maitutulong ko? Sapat na ba sa iyo ang ganito--- ang mahalin natin ang isa't isa sa magkabilang mundo, sa magkaibang paraan? Iyon lang kasi ang maibibigay ko. At alam ko... hanggang du'n lang rin ang kaya mo.
Patuloy na tatakbo ang buhay ko. At sa tuwing mumultuhin mo ako, ngingiti na lang ako. Oo, tatayo pa rin ang mga balahibo ko sa batok, manlalamig at iikot pa rin ang tiyan ko... Pero hindi na ako matatakot.
Hindi ka totoo.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Tugon
M**: Glad to have you in my life... even for just a while.
My answer(SILENTLY):
"i'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not to have you in my life at all,"
...lumilinya! haha. mabasa mo kaya to? so what. hahaha =))
sabi nga ni Paulo Coelho:
"FORGIVE BUT NOT FORGET, OR YOU WILL BE HURT AGAIN"
My answer(SILENTLY):
"i'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not to have you in my life at all,"
...lumilinya! haha. mabasa mo kaya to? so what. hahaha =))
sabi nga ni Paulo Coelho:
"FORGIVE BUT NOT FORGET, OR YOU WILL BE HURT AGAIN"
Thursday, August 12, 2010
You Never Knew (from peyups.com by tingkerbell)
I stand in front of the sunrise today, filled with awe at the beauty that lies
before me. I wish I could have at least an idea of what falls beyond the horizon, just as much as I wish the sea will open up to me and eat me whole. Yet the sea seems to bear a somewhat unexplainable message I couldn’t decode. Something perhaps everybody knows about, something I should have known a long time ago just as much.
I stand here between the sun and the sea, both of which existed since time immemorial. I lay still, nursing my cup of coffee that turned cold, as cold as your heart has become and my pack of cigarettes, as stale as my love for you. The love you never knew existed.
The wind blew right into my face, sending shivers to my spine. It gently flew away my hair that covered the tears that I have unconsciously cried for you. I did not notice how strong the wind has become until I felt it leaving a dry saline line upon my face.
Suddenly, like a dream that has been haunting me in my sleep, I see a familiar event flash right in front of me. I could see myself alone in a room crying till there’s no more tears left to cry, holding on to my pillow that has become my faithful companion in the advent of my trying to put you to oblivion. It has never been easy for me to have always fallen asleep with pillows still soaked with tears as I wake up. Yet, you don’t have the faintest idea of these all, do you? You never knew.
So here I am, escaping from the bondage of you. I am a hundred miles away from the past that I am painstakingly trying to mend. This journey is for the part of me I wish to redeem, for no other reason but to put you all behind me.
These will be the last tears I’ll cry for you. It won’t be easy, I know. But just as the sun that never fails to rise each waking moment of every day and the sea that forever links one landmass to the other, this decision wouldn’t fail me. You will now be just a past worth smiling about as I think of how much I will be capable of loving another, in time. I did love you, you know. To the point of surrender. But then again, you never knew.
You were then my entire universe. Its time you ought to know.
before me. I wish I could have at least an idea of what falls beyond the horizon, just as much as I wish the sea will open up to me and eat me whole. Yet the sea seems to bear a somewhat unexplainable message I couldn’t decode. Something perhaps everybody knows about, something I should have known a long time ago just as much.
I stand here between the sun and the sea, both of which existed since time immemorial. I lay still, nursing my cup of coffee that turned cold, as cold as your heart has become and my pack of cigarettes, as stale as my love for you. The love you never knew existed.
The wind blew right into my face, sending shivers to my spine. It gently flew away my hair that covered the tears that I have unconsciously cried for you. I did not notice how strong the wind has become until I felt it leaving a dry saline line upon my face.
Suddenly, like a dream that has been haunting me in my sleep, I see a familiar event flash right in front of me. I could see myself alone in a room crying till there’s no more tears left to cry, holding on to my pillow that has become my faithful companion in the advent of my trying to put you to oblivion. It has never been easy for me to have always fallen asleep with pillows still soaked with tears as I wake up. Yet, you don’t have the faintest idea of these all, do you? You never knew.
So here I am, escaping from the bondage of you. I am a hundred miles away from the past that I am painstakingly trying to mend. This journey is for the part of me I wish to redeem, for no other reason but to put you all behind me.
These will be the last tears I’ll cry for you. It won’t be easy, I know. But just as the sun that never fails to rise each waking moment of every day and the sea that forever links one landmass to the other, this decision wouldn’t fail me. You will now be just a past worth smiling about as I think of how much I will be capable of loving another, in time. I did love you, you know. To the point of surrender. But then again, you never knew.
You were then my entire universe. Its time you ought to know.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
The Starting Line
you said you like me.
but after a year, we're still on the same place
the place where we met a year ago
the starting line
you said i was fun to chat with
but every time I'm starting to have a conversation
you tend to be naive...
the moment i realize you're silence, i looked back to you
then i saw you standing still
on the place where we met a year ago
the starting line
you said you want to hold hands with me and hug me in the cold night
but every time i step forward holding your hand and act as if I'm hugging you
you let go of my hand just like that
and you're stuck there
on the place where we met a year ago
the starting line
you wished to be near me
but every time i made plans for us
you're being silent again
the moment i realize you're not on my side, i looked back to you
then i saw you again standing still
on the place where we met a year ago
the starting line
how can we go on the road we're about to go
when every time i step forward
you only look at me and smile
Then i look back to you wandering why you're stuck on that line
Are you having regrets?
Are you afraid i might turn you down?
Isn't it obvious?
I like you too.
So take risks.
Walk with me on this road.
Then we'll find out if we're going to reach the finish line
or make this road lasts forever
but after a year, we're still on the same place
the place where we met a year ago
the starting line
you said i was fun to chat with
but every time I'm starting to have a conversation
you tend to be naive...
the moment i realize you're silence, i looked back to you
then i saw you standing still
on the place where we met a year ago
the starting line
you said you want to hold hands with me and hug me in the cold night
but every time i step forward holding your hand and act as if I'm hugging you
you let go of my hand just like that
and you're stuck there
on the place where we met a year ago
the starting line
you wished to be near me
but every time i made plans for us
you're being silent again
the moment i realize you're not on my side, i looked back to you
then i saw you again standing still
on the place where we met a year ago
the starting line
how can we go on the road we're about to go
when every time i step forward
you only look at me and smile
Then i look back to you wandering why you're stuck on that line
Are you having regrets?
Are you afraid i might turn you down?
Isn't it obvious?
I like you too.
So take risks.
Walk with me on this road.
Then we'll find out if we're going to reach the finish line
or make this road lasts forever
The people that you never get to love...
Personal Thoughts : The people that you never get to love
Contributed by groucho (Edited by karl)
Tuesday, December 31, 2002 @ 02:56:24 PM (read 28041 times)
Many of your friends have a lot of things to say about this chance encounter and they have stories of their own. Each one more magical and eternally more exciting than the last. But you have a real story of your own that is quite similar to the situation mentioned in the first paragraph.
You were riding the MRT on your way to Makati one early evening. You were with your good friend who you share a lot about your life than anyone else. You always enjoy this friend's company because of the discussions you usually have in the long train home. While your friend tells you about his current obsessions, you tell him that almost everyone in the train does not smile, or they look sad, almost melancholy, as though dreading the things they will find when they reach home.
You were at that point when the train stopped in busy and people-ful Cubao/Araneta station, and in came a goddess so beautiful you both were transfixed. She was obviously an angel who lost her way when she was heading to some celestial place, because of her uncommon beauty and a lack of awareness of her beauty.
You try not to look at her but your friend was mouthing poetics about her. You observe her vicariously through your friend's avid and postmodern description and assessment. You look at her surreptitiously to catch a glimpse of heaven, but you sense that she notices the fakery of that single gesture of yours so you try to examine the darkening sky with rapt attention -- something you don't usually do -- inorder to cover up your highly curious nature.
Then you feel that your pulse is quickening to such an alarming rate, and your palpitations began to loudly announce your embarrassed but unabashed admiration for such an ideal beauty. Then you try to really look at her once and memorize all features in that sweeping glance. Although you tried to commit things to memory when you were a student, this new memorization is nothing academic -- while admittedly visual it is also purely transcendent.
You notice small things about her. You notice the angelic face that is an absolute perfection. The pallor of her skin reminds you of women you see in gloss magazines and you decided that make-up or no make-up she possessed such an innate beauty that repeated glances is imperative. And if that wasn't enough, you notice that by sheer alchemy, pure sorcery and magic, she is glowing to such nuclear proportions. Her arms were most delicate. Her neck with such swan-like proportions distracted you from the small cascades of her hair. Her dress is "businesslike chic" but you think she is just trying to dress down -- afraid that her unspeakable beauty will cause a riot similar to that in 1913 when Stravinsky's "Rites of Spring" was first heard in France.
You are unwilling to admit that your attraction has very little lust value. Its as if, she is an object of beauty best placed in pedestals and not touched. You realize you are overly exaggerating in your mental descriptions but you try to imagine what your life would be like with her. You suddenly imagine scenarios where you introduce her to incredulous friends who thought that your average, plain Joe looks are inversely proportional to this hideously beautiful woman. You laugh at their reactions, at the same time vicariously imagining the torment they are undergoing when they reach home and analyze how you were able to get this deliriously lovely woman to fall for you.
Your reverie was interrupted because your friend had to step out of the train, and you were left behind with this creature of immense attractiveness. You friend enviously looked at both you and Venus-personified when you realize that she is still with you on the train. On the station in Ayala where you normally get off, you decided in split-second decision that you will want to follow her and see what station she will step out of just to give a closure to your unattainable goal, then your superego told you to just get on with your life and eventually forget her.
You watched with mounting excitement as her poetry-in-motion movement made for the same door you are headed. Probably crimson with love coupled with the stupid belief that life ends happily ever after, you got so close to her as to really really smell her when the door opened and both of you and the rest of the populace spilled out of the train and went to the nearest elevator. Unable to contain the excitement the you are with her at least in one air-space, you suddenly remembered to pray. So vigorously it shocked you. You prayed that a miracle will happen that night.
Then just like real life, she went to the different direction while you were taking your own path to nowhere. You try to nonchalantly ignore her departing figure, then you realize that happy endings are only in fairy tales created by the Grimm Brothers. Your own fairy tale was obviously written by the greatest masochist of all time -- Hans Christian Andersen whose fairy tales always end unhappily.
You took one last lonely glance at a person that you will never probably know in your life, when, by some divine intervention, she looked back and looked at you. Directly at you. Only you. You swear there was no one else. And you both instantly felt that instant connection -- as people who are in love can search for her/his partner in the foggiest of rooms and jungle-like of places. You don't know what to do, and you instantly fell in love all over again. With such intensity it scared you. No other feeling came close -- not even the heady feeling when you got your first pay check. Her look was so shy and fleeting and direct. Then she looked straight ahead and went on her way. Just like that.
And you, a fool, stood longer than necessary amidst the cinematic flow of the people. You did not follow but you wished she would come back and pretend to buy something so that you can have your cue and muster courage to approach her at last. She didn't. She turned the corner and disappeared and became a statistic.
But for once in your life, you felt blessed and oddly enlightened. As though it was God or someone all-powerful. You felt momentarily dejected, you couldn't believe the somersaults your heart did in the very brief span of time that you met a person who never even uttered a single word to you.
And even if you know it happened only yesterday, you still can't get her out of your mind. Somehow you wish she would read this and get in touch with you. You know you are fighting an uphill battle because you will never see her again unless you wait trains for the rest of your life. And in time you will forget her just as you will become a memory to her if at all she had those fleeting but strong feelings for you. But you know what and strangest of all, you will probably look for her in every corner, in every face, in everything for the rest of your life and wonder why you willingly let her walk away.
Contributed by groucho (Edited by karl)
Tuesday, December 31, 2002 @ 02:56:24 PM (read 28041 times)
Many of your friends have a lot of things to say about this chance encounter and they have stories of their own. Each one more magical and eternally more exciting than the last. But you have a real story of your own that is quite similar to the situation mentioned in the first paragraph.
You were riding the MRT on your way to Makati one early evening. You were with your good friend who you share a lot about your life than anyone else. You always enjoy this friend's company because of the discussions you usually have in the long train home. While your friend tells you about his current obsessions, you tell him that almost everyone in the train does not smile, or they look sad, almost melancholy, as though dreading the things they will find when they reach home.
You were at that point when the train stopped in busy and people-ful Cubao/Araneta station, and in came a goddess so beautiful you both were transfixed. She was obviously an angel who lost her way when she was heading to some celestial place, because of her uncommon beauty and a lack of awareness of her beauty.
You try not to look at her but your friend was mouthing poetics about her. You observe her vicariously through your friend's avid and postmodern description and assessment. You look at her surreptitiously to catch a glimpse of heaven, but you sense that she notices the fakery of that single gesture of yours so you try to examine the darkening sky with rapt attention -- something you don't usually do -- inorder to cover up your highly curious nature.
Then you feel that your pulse is quickening to such an alarming rate, and your palpitations began to loudly announce your embarrassed but unabashed admiration for such an ideal beauty. Then you try to really look at her once and memorize all features in that sweeping glance. Although you tried to commit things to memory when you were a student, this new memorization is nothing academic -- while admittedly visual it is also purely transcendent.
You notice small things about her. You notice the angelic face that is an absolute perfection. The pallor of her skin reminds you of women you see in gloss magazines and you decided that make-up or no make-up she possessed such an innate beauty that repeated glances is imperative. And if that wasn't enough, you notice that by sheer alchemy, pure sorcery and magic, she is glowing to such nuclear proportions. Her arms were most delicate. Her neck with such swan-like proportions distracted you from the small cascades of her hair. Her dress is "businesslike chic" but you think she is just trying to dress down -- afraid that her unspeakable beauty will cause a riot similar to that in 1913 when Stravinsky's "Rites of Spring" was first heard in France.
You are unwilling to admit that your attraction has very little lust value. Its as if, she is an object of beauty best placed in pedestals and not touched. You realize you are overly exaggerating in your mental descriptions but you try to imagine what your life would be like with her. You suddenly imagine scenarios where you introduce her to incredulous friends who thought that your average, plain Joe looks are inversely proportional to this hideously beautiful woman. You laugh at their reactions, at the same time vicariously imagining the torment they are undergoing when they reach home and analyze how you were able to get this deliriously lovely woman to fall for you.
Your reverie was interrupted because your friend had to step out of the train, and you were left behind with this creature of immense attractiveness. You friend enviously looked at both you and Venus-personified when you realize that she is still with you on the train. On the station in Ayala where you normally get off, you decided in split-second decision that you will want to follow her and see what station she will step out of just to give a closure to your unattainable goal, then your superego told you to just get on with your life and eventually forget her.
You watched with mounting excitement as her poetry-in-motion movement made for the same door you are headed. Probably crimson with love coupled with the stupid belief that life ends happily ever after, you got so close to her as to really really smell her when the door opened and both of you and the rest of the populace spilled out of the train and went to the nearest elevator. Unable to contain the excitement the you are with her at least in one air-space, you suddenly remembered to pray. So vigorously it shocked you. You prayed that a miracle will happen that night.
Then just like real life, she went to the different direction while you were taking your own path to nowhere. You try to nonchalantly ignore her departing figure, then you realize that happy endings are only in fairy tales created by the Grimm Brothers. Your own fairy tale was obviously written by the greatest masochist of all time -- Hans Christian Andersen whose fairy tales always end unhappily.
You took one last lonely glance at a person that you will never probably know in your life, when, by some divine intervention, she looked back and looked at you. Directly at you. Only you. You swear there was no one else. And you both instantly felt that instant connection -- as people who are in love can search for her/his partner in the foggiest of rooms and jungle-like of places. You don't know what to do, and you instantly fell in love all over again. With such intensity it scared you. No other feeling came close -- not even the heady feeling when you got your first pay check. Her look was so shy and fleeting and direct. Then she looked straight ahead and went on her way. Just like that.
And you, a fool, stood longer than necessary amidst the cinematic flow of the people. You did not follow but you wished she would come back and pretend to buy something so that you can have your cue and muster courage to approach her at last. She didn't. She turned the corner and disappeared and became a statistic.
But for once in your life, you felt blessed and oddly enlightened. As though it was God or someone all-powerful. You felt momentarily dejected, you couldn't believe the somersaults your heart did in the very brief span of time that you met a person who never even uttered a single word to you.
And even if you know it happened only yesterday, you still can't get her out of your mind. Somehow you wish she would read this and get in touch with you. You know you are fighting an uphill battle because you will never see her again unless you wait trains for the rest of your life. And in time you will forget her just as you will become a memory to her if at all she had those fleeting but strong feelings for you. But you know what and strangest of all, you will probably look for her in every corner, in every face, in everything for the rest of your life and wonder why you willingly let her walk away.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
On Guys Liking Girls
by revo (from peyups.com )
1. even if a guy is attracted to you, it does NOT automatically mean he likes you.
2. even if a guy likes you, it does NOT mean that he would like to pursue you.
3. even if a guy pursues you, it does NOT mean he loves you, though he may say so. the pursuit could be a fact-finding mission, for all intents and purposes, to get to know you better.
4. even if a guy loves you, it does NOT mean he wants to marry you.
speaking as a guy, the only thing you girls can be sure of is that if a guy really likes you, he will ask to see you again and again. he can't help it.
but it's not true the other way around - if a guy asks to see you again and again, it doesn't mean he likes you. he might just be playing.
you can also be sure that it a guy starts to make real and personal sacrifices on your behalf, yun na yun. that's the sign, he truly loves you.
#############
1. even if a guy is attracted to you, it does NOT automatically mean he likes you.
2. even if a guy likes you, it does NOT mean that he would like to pursue you.
3. even if a guy pursues you, it does NOT mean he loves you, though he may say so. the pursuit could be a fact-finding mission, for all intents and purposes, to get to know you better.
4. even if a guy loves you, it does NOT mean he wants to marry you.
speaking as a guy, the only thing you girls can be sure of is that if a guy really likes you, he will ask to see you again and again. he can't help it.
but it's not true the other way around - if a guy asks to see you again and again, it doesn't mean he likes you. he might just be playing.
you can also be sure that it a guy starts to make real and personal sacrifices on your behalf, yun na yun. that's the sign, he truly loves you.
#############
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Of Love and Latte ♥
from The Breakup Diaries by Maya O. Calica
I’ve been asked to write an article about love. About finding it, losing it and maybe finding it again. Bet you’re wondering what qualifies me to do such. Unfortunately, I am no love doctor with a Ph.D. in Romance Physics nor an M.A. in Relationship Chemistry. I have had my heart broken just once, so technically I do not qualify as an expert by virtue of my vast experiences.
What do I know?
Well, let me tell you that I can mix you a mean café latté. I am a barista. In all the summers I’ve logged in at my tita’s café, serving up cappuccinos and espressos, I have learned a thing or two about that thing called love. Just like coffee, both require a certain amount of care to ensure it is brewed to perfection. You will need the following:
- Water, purified of all fear of “what he leaves me?” or “what if he’s not Mr. Right?”
- A certain measure of diversity – be it in the form of coffee beans or unique personalities – combined in an airtight container that will allow pressure to build up.
- A man and a woman, preferably hot for each other (or with the potential of warming up to at least the prospect of friendship).
Now to bring to a boil. In barista-speak, this is the moment when water and ground coffee first make contact, the former extracting the flavors from the latter, in a manner that will drip and percolate for you an aromatic cup of espresso.
In courtship terms, this is when boy-meets-girl, when the first blush of infatuation floats up to the surface. This can take anywhere from 22 seconds to 22 months, depending on the temperature set on your machine. Agitate the coffee further with Saturday night movie dates, text messages embellished with smiley faces and animated teddy bears, cute phone calls at 1AM involving favorite colors, movie-defining-moments and soul mates and stolen first kisses. (That last one is my personal favorite.)
Now top with the velvety-smooth froth of friendship, sweeten with promises kept and you’ve got yourself the perfect café latté. Right? Well, not exactly.
In my experience, I know that no matter how you faithfully follow a recipe to the letter, you don’t always get the perfect cup of joe each time. Love – that other four-letter word I know – is much harder to concoct than coffee.
At some point, you’ll learn that no matter how hard you play by the rules, make all the right moves and try to be Ms. Perfect In Every Way, you don’t always get the results you hoped for.
Or the guy you pined for, for that matter. Because when reality rears its disappointing, pink-bubble-bursting head, you’ll realize life doesn’t always play out the way you wish it would.
The dude who once adored your lattés can snap out of it and proclaim you’re no longer his cup of cappuccino. Just. Like. That.
Suddenly, you find that all that’s left is a mug half-filled with day-old coffee that’s cold and stale and depressing. So you cry, you curse, you deny, you blame, you rewind, you wish and pray a novena to every saint you know that things go back to exactly the way they were. And no matter how often you kneel in Baclaran or how many candles you light at morning mass, your instant replay never happens.
So what do you do? You wipe away your tears, take your cup and empty all of its contents. Rinse it under running tap, making sure all traces of stains along the rim and down its side as well as leftover grounds at the bottom are washed away.
Then you start over. First, scoop yourself a generous batch of mountain-grown roasts, finely ground so that every granule is bursting with the prospect of new adventures, experiences and relationships. Pour water purified of all of your bitterness, rejection and self-pity.
Now press "brew". As you hear the machine whir, gurgle and sputter to life, close your eyes. Revel in the heady aroma of fresh coffee in the throes of being born. You may not see it yet, but by inhaling its sweetness, you hold the promise of good things to come in your heart the way you would a silent prayer. You dream of a cup so wonderful, so richly golden brown, encircled with a lush ring of cream so perfect you can already taste it.
And the moment you hear it streaming into your cup, you realize why you had to give up that last brew. Something much better was on its way to you.
And you’ll be thankful you waited. Because you know in your bones, in your heart of hearts, that this one’s going to be a keeper. And you wonder why it took you so long for you to realize that.
But then again, better latté than never.
Epidermis
Q: What is the "nicest" way to break a heart?
A: Sabihan mo nito - "dude, hindi ka pa nakarating sa puso ko, hanggang epidermis ka pa lang ng dibdib ko". :))
http://peyups.com/forums/topic.php?id=839
A: Sabihan mo nito - "dude, hindi ka pa nakarating sa puso ko, hanggang epidermis ka pa lang ng dibdib ko". :))
http://peyups.com/forums/topic.php?id=839
Almost but not quite...
An excerpt from 500 days of Summer
Day 482
Tom goes to the bench at his favorite part of the city. He’s gazing down at some of the buildings when Summer calls out to him. She compliments his looks and knows he’s angry. She tells him that she’s happy to see he’s doing ok. Tom confesses that he now realizes that all his ideas about love were wrong. Summer points out that it wasn’t. The girl who didn’t want to be anyone’s girlfriend was now someone’s wife. She tells him that with her husband, she knew what she was never sure of with Tom: that she was in love with him and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. And she tells Tom that if there’s no destiny, she might have easily never randomly met him in a coffee shop. She tells Tom he was right. Just not about her. She holds his hand and squeezes before telling him that she needs to go. Tom tells her he’s happy that she’s happy, but makes a point not to congratulate her on her marriage. She smiles and leaves.
http://www.themoviespoiler.com/Spoilers/500daysofsummer.html
###################
I rephrase and say:
The boy who can't leave his girlfriend ( for the sake of "magpapakamatay ako pag iniwan mo ko", was now someone's boyfriend )..
Funny isn't it?
I just remembered as i watch the movie again...
And the undying updates that comes to me involuntarily... (argh! i don't want updatess. pls...)
I can't help but laugh when i watched this scene in the movie...
And i say to myself: "Oo nga no. Sana sinabi mo na lang na "Tigilan na natin to..."
Siguro mas okay pa yun. Kasi alam ko wala akong pagsisisihan kasi ikaw na ang naggiveup...
Kesa hinintay mo pang ako ang mag-giveup para magparaya sa taong magpapakamatay pag iniwan mo...
Andaming hesitation hanggang ngayon tuloy, naiisip ko... "Pano kung di ako naggive-up?What will happen now?"
It's hard to wait for something that might never happen, but it's even harder to give up when you know it's everything you ever wanted...
Some will say ”bitter ka lang”
I say : "Hindi ako bitter...that was a year ago.. naalala ko lang... at hanggang ngayon hindi ko maiiwasang itanong sa sarili ko... "Pano kung di ako naggiveup? Ano na kaya nangyari samen?"
Sadyang masakit lang tanggapin, na ganun ang nangyari... Naglaho ang right time.. Right time na sabi mo aantayin natin..
Pero sabi mo nga, "habang hinihintay natin yung right time, parang untiunting naglalaho yun..."
Naglaho na nga...
Ohwell... Life is life. You'll never know what will happen next...
Just a mere realization that: If it's meant to be, it will happen..(in God's time) :>
Day 482
Tom goes to the bench at his favorite part of the city. He’s gazing down at some of the buildings when Summer calls out to him. She compliments his looks and knows he’s angry. She tells him that she’s happy to see he’s doing ok. Tom confesses that he now realizes that all his ideas about love were wrong. Summer points out that it wasn’t. The girl who didn’t want to be anyone’s girlfriend was now someone’s wife. She tells him that with her husband, she knew what she was never sure of with Tom: that she was in love with him and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. And she tells Tom that if there’s no destiny, she might have easily never randomly met him in a coffee shop. She tells Tom he was right. Just not about her. She holds his hand and squeezes before telling him that she needs to go. Tom tells her he’s happy that she’s happy, but makes a point not to congratulate her on her marriage. She smiles and leaves.
http://www.themoviespoiler.com/Spoilers/500daysofsummer.html
###################
I rephrase and say:
The boy who can't leave his girlfriend ( for the sake of "magpapakamatay ako pag iniwan mo ko", was now someone's boyfriend )..
Funny isn't it?
I just remembered as i watch the movie again...
And the undying updates that comes to me involuntarily... (argh! i don't want updatess. pls...)
I can't help but laugh when i watched this scene in the movie...
And i say to myself: "Oo nga no. Sana sinabi mo na lang na "Tigilan na natin to..."
Siguro mas okay pa yun. Kasi alam ko wala akong pagsisisihan kasi ikaw na ang naggiveup...
Kesa hinintay mo pang ako ang mag-giveup para magparaya sa taong magpapakamatay pag iniwan mo...
Andaming hesitation hanggang ngayon tuloy, naiisip ko... "Pano kung di ako naggive-up?What will happen now?"
It's hard to wait for something that might never happen, but it's even harder to give up when you know it's everything you ever wanted...
Some will say ”bitter ka lang”
I say : "Hindi ako bitter...that was a year ago.. naalala ko lang... at hanggang ngayon hindi ko maiiwasang itanong sa sarili ko... "Pano kung di ako naggiveup? Ano na kaya nangyari samen?"
Sadyang masakit lang tanggapin, na ganun ang nangyari... Naglaho ang right time.. Right time na sabi mo aantayin natin..
Pero sabi mo nga, "habang hinihintay natin yung right time, parang untiunting naglalaho yun..."
Naglaho na nga...
Ohwell... Life is life. You'll never know what will happen next...
Just a mere realization that: If it's meant to be, it will happen..(in God's time) :>
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Breaking Down Boulders (from peyups.com)
Was it all just a dream?
I stared at the row of cars in front of me as I blew hazy white rings into the night sky during my lunch hour. My mind was in a blank state. I didn’t want my traitorous thoughts to fall prey to the foolishness of my heart. Just for an hour.
But it seems a futile task because my thoughts force me to face the bitter reality that there is no chance in hell that we could evolve into something more than what we are now - friends. I felt the sting of tears as I chastised myself on my utter stupidity. I fell hard. I didn’t leave anything for myself. I didn’t even bother looking back to see if my shadow could catch up with me. I was arrested and now I’m trapped.
He was leaving for home the next morning. He said he couldn’t take the job anymore. We were call center agents a.k.a. phone monkeys so I understood him perfectly. Everything sucked except the money. I wanted to stop him from quitting but I didn’t say a single word. I didn’t have the right. Like Fiona Apple said, he just used my skin to bury secrets in. I was stupid to think that because he shared his dreams with me, he would someday give me his love.
The sudden tap on my shoulder brought me swiftly to reality. I rapidly blinked away the tears. At the corner of my eye, I saw him hunkering down beside me on the pavement.
“Hey,” I turned to look at him as he lit his cigarette. I don’t know how he does it but with him it’s an art form, “What’s up?”
I went back to staring at the row of cars and replied quietly, “Nothing”.
“You on break?”
“Nope I’m on lunch”. I took a puff of my cigarette and leaned my head on my knees. I was so tired. I knew he was going to talk about her again. Always her. The unattainable. His elusive butterfly. Lana.
“What’s wrong?” I heard the concern in his voice. He touched my shoulder and I felt each fingertip as if they burned imprints. I didn’t want to remember his touch. Good God grant me the bliss of amnesia.
“Nothing's wrong. I just have a slight headache that’s all. Don’t worry about it.” The lie sounded lame even to my ears.
“Not worry? You’ve used that excuse for the past few days. Weeks even. C’mon I’m not dumb. What’s going on?”
Silence.
But inside me, my mind was bursting.
If I told him how I really feel, he’d scram for the nearest exit. He would at first claim that he was different and promise that nothing would change but he’d still scram anyway. Slowly. Too slow for me to notice. Otherwise if I don’t tell him, I would again add the experience to my growing list of things I should have done but was too afraid to do. I don’t want to be a coward this time.
I breathed in a lungful of air and gathered my wits. “Do you think love is a choice or by chance?” His intense brown eyes peered at me. He didn’t respond for a long moment.
“It’s by chance. If you fall in love, you don’t exactly have a choice do you?” He had that far-away look in his eyes again. He was thinking about Lana. I had to look away.
“For me it’s a bit of both. A chance meeting with someone is still a choice. For example you met that person in the street; both of you chose to take the same route and when you bumped into each other, it became a chance encounter. You don't fall in love by chance. It's still up to you if you really want to love this person, murder charges and all or not. Our minds like to play tricks on us that's why we think we couldn't help falling in love. Contrary to what books and movies had us believe, love is a decision and not just a mere feeling.”
“I’m not going to argue with you on that. At some level, I agree with you. But what brought on this sudden insight?”
“It’s not sudden. I said that almost a year ago when a friend asked me the same question. I realized I wasn’t completely right. You can’t decide not to fall in love.”
“Is it so bad to let go and give in?”
I stared at him. I saw why falling for him was inevitable. He had a mystery about him, but it was always right there in front of me. I couldn’t probe deeper and I’m not sure I want to anymore. It was only with him that I learned of my capacity to give. It scares the hell out of me that I don’t think it’s enough. Talk about martyrdom. I know him well enough to know that he will never understand why he shocked me still.
“To fall in love is to create a religion with a fallible god. I don’t remember who spoke these words. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that it is true. I did fall in love. But you are not fallible yet.” I saw the myriad of emotions that played on his face. Shock. Disbelief. Skepticism. Uncertainty. Amusement. He was too transparent. He wanted to laugh but one look at my grave face stopped him.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“But why?” The agitation in his voice was unmistakable. So was the pity in his eyes. I turned away and forced myself to go on.
“If I answer that then it would mean I quantified my feelings for you. I can’t explain it. It just happened. I couldn’t stop it.”
“I had no idea. If I knew, I wouldn’t have…that wouldn’t have happened.” Images and words flashed in my mind’s eye. Kisses. Embraces. Torrid hot nights. Illusions of love. I was in torment because I felt neither guilt nor regret and he felt both.
“I gave myself to you because I love you.” I whispered. I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt a strong arm pull me close and a hand wiping my tears away.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a few minutes of strained silence.
“Sorry for what? That you don’t love me? You don’t have to apologize for something that you don’t feel. I wish I could say it doesn’t hurt that you love her. But I can’t pretend anymore.” My breath clogged my throat. Swallowing my pride took more effort than running five miles.
He tipped my chin up and looked into my eyes, his face a tortured mask. “You’re special to me. You’re a very good friend. I love you as a friend. You’re one of the greatest people I’ve ever met! Nothing can take that away. But I’m sorry. I’m still in love with her.”
I felt each word stab inside me like a knife. Special. Love. Friend. Sorry. I closed my eyes in the hope that I would not feel the agony. Pain. It was already inside me.
“It’s okay. I understand. Like I said, you don’t have to apologize for something that you don’t feel and…for something that you do.” I looked down and saw my phone, seeing that my hour was almost up. My tears blinded me. It blew my mind that I relayed the devastating news to him in less than 30 minutes.
“I’ll try to get over you. For my sake. Don’t worry about me. Reach for the stars,” I said softly and got up.
I trudged my way inside the air-conditioned building. I looked behind me before I got in. His head was in between his hands. I felt bad for causing him distress. But I had to tell him. I knew I wasn’t going to see him again.
In the road of life, you may encounter a huge boulder that you think you can’t get past at. You hem and haw as to how you can solve the problem. If you succeed in rolling it away, you’ll have to deal with it again because it’s still on the road. If you break it down, the debris might kill you. So you cry and sit on top of the boulder, thinking of how you can destroy it and then forget you ever chanced upon it. But you can’t. The rocks in your life are there to remind you that nothing is perfect and you are only human. A journey isn’t a journey without conflicts along the way. All you can do is brush away the dirt and continue walking. Let go and move on.
Let go and move on.
I have to say that line a thousand times more for me to believe that I have the power to let him go.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Smell the Coffee and Wake Up (from peyups.com)
Contributed by jjvl (Edited by arwen)
Monday, October 01, 2007 @ 07:02:30 PM
Coffee. The word means different things to different kinds of people. For a few, it means the luxury of enjoying exotic flavors from around the world. To some, it means the chance of pretending to afford and enjoy this luxury. To others, it means daily fare to keep them awake and alert for their daily labor. Finally, for a steadily growing number of Filipinos, it equates with their very survival. Coffee is more than a mere beverage consisting of alkali, sugar and other compounds. It is a symbol of social and economic status, of prestige, and of power. In every stir and sip, and in every drop is the story not only of the person drinking it, but of the society as well.
Drop by a classy café or restaurant. Chances are, you would see at least one person drinking coffee at any given time of the day. The coffee there comes in many different flavors, with a variety of syrups, flavoring, toppings, cream and other add-ons to create a vast combination for drinking pleasure in different sizes. Imagine that you’re modestly well-to-do, if not filthy rich. Take your pick. Order your cup. Read a book and enjoy the comforts of a relaxed lounge atmosphere. Pay your bill: use either cash or credit card for your purchase. Then drive off, feeling better with that one dose of sheer pleasure to make your day.
Now imagine you’re not really rich or well-to-do. Remember: You had to save for this trip to the café, so make it count. You approach the counter and give your order with enough élan and sophistication to shame any high-browed socialite. You find a seat closest to the door where everyone can see you sipping an expensive cup. A friend comes in, and you feign surprise. You invite her to order a cup and join you. Three hours pass, and amazingly, your cups aren’t even half empty. The coffee’s cold, but you don’t mind, as you wave to your acquaintances passing by outside. Yes, that was good, wasn’t it?
It’s midnight, and you have to beat a deadline. Hours pass without much productivity, so you cram. Finding the nearest cup of warm water and a sachet of instant 3-in-1 coffee, you pour everything in and stir. Satisfied with that brownish tinge, you chug it down in one gulp. Now, that ought to perk you up, for the fourth time in two hours. Minutes tick by and your deadline comes closer. God, the stress is killing you. But hey, there’s still one more sachet left to calm you down. You finish a few minutes before deadline, you prepare that last cup and drink it. You feel like passing out, but you’re wide awake. Your head hurts, and it’s driving you mad.
You have a family of seven. You have a job, thank God, but it’s not enough to cover the costs of daily living. At least you have enough to buy rice. Cooped up in the four walls of your flimsy shanty, you prepare another mix of rice and instant coffee powder. That would be enough to keep your children’s stomachs from grumbling, at least for another day. They ate batchoy yesterday anyway, so a little sacrifice today wouldn’t hurt. You mix a little condensed milk for extra flavor, with some water to spread it. You don’t complain – better to eat once than not eat at all. Dinner is served.
In the simplest of things, like coffee, we can see the grim realities of Filipino society. It’s appalling how some could casually spend for their luxuries, while others are at the brink of starvation. A friend once told me how guilty he felt when a street kid asked him for alms when he left a Starbucks. Whether he gave the poor thing anything, I don’t really remember. What’s sad is that many of us don’t really care. I don’t know if apathy and indifference are side effects of caffeine overconsumption. To some extent, there is blood in your coffee. I guess what’s important is that even when we enjoy coffee as a creature comfort, we do not forget those among us whose very survival hangs on a thread. Everytime we perk up, our social consciousness should also get a jolt.
Smell the coffee and wake up.
Second chances are possible, but if it's not meant to be.. it won't be...
article from peyups.com (Sorry, title and author are not acknowledged due to inavailability of the Peyups site. Once the site is available, i'll make sure to include the title, link and author for this article)
-----
I picked up the phone, and all I heard was the sound of the radio on the other line.
“Don’t give up on us baby, we’re still worth one more try …”
Dang. Who’s this freak on the other side of the phone? It’s too early for pranks. It’s just 6AM
on a freakin’ Sunday! Who is awake by this time? And I really had a lousy night trying to fix my
PC. I’m pissed, and this person’s in big trouble. I could look up his number and report
him to the police for ‘interference of a peaceful and much-needed sleep’.
“Hello?” “Hello, Krystal? Sorry nagising yata kita. Si Jerome ito.”
I felt like I was doused with ice cold water. How could I forget the voice? After all these
years, it still sounded so sweet. It still has that effect on me. Suddenly, my heart is beating
faster.
Jerome. How could I not remember? I didn’t just used to know him. I used to love him.
“Gusto ko lang marinig ang boses mo. Marinig lang kita, ang tawa mo, sumasaya na ako uli.”
I can hear him. He is crying on the other end. Somehow, my heart bleeds for him too. I know
what he feels. Because I have been in the same situation – when he left me.
We were once an ‘us’. We were the envy of our peers back in highschool. He was THE heartthrob,
and I can say I’m not that bad looking either. We had things going for us. I can still remember
how in love I was. I can still remember walking in clouds, and believing my own little fairy
tales in my own little world. I believed in all his promises – of forevers, and happy endings
and love like no other.
I loved him so much I could have offered him the world. I was ready to sacrifice anything for
him. True, I know he’s a playboy, but I accepted that fact and was even ready to become a martyr
if I had to. I loved him so much that nothing else mattered. But as all sob stories go, he left me. And when
he left me, he gave me no reasons. He just said it’s over. And for a while there, my life was
too. A part of me died, without even knowing why.
“Oo nga, ngayon ko lang nare-realize lahat ng ginawa ko. Ang dami kong pagkukulang sa iyo.
Totoo nga yung sabi nila, kung kailan wala na sa iyo ang tao, saka mo lang mare realize ang worth
nya.”
I was a wreck when he left me. It took me years to let the wounds heal. Everyday, I would stay
late at school – just watching him in the CAT training they have every afternoon. I’d watch
him flirt with other girls. I’d watch in one corner, crying my heart out. I didn’t care if
other people thought I was too pathetic. I didn’t care the sight of him being sweet with
another girl killed me over again. The sight of him was my only life.
“Iba ka. Oo maraming babae, pero iisa ka lang. Wala na akong makikitang tulad mo. Iba kang
magmahal. Naalala ko pa kung paano mo ako inaasikaso noon. Naaalala ko kung paano mo ako
ipinaglaban sa parents mo.”
He left me when my parents knew of our relationship. He was afraid of my parents. And
he didn’t want to take responsibility. While I fought for him, he was there, exchanging sweet
nothings with another.
Highschool passed. When I got into college, the pain was still there. I remember walking back to
my dorm every afternoon, secretly hoping that he somehow looked up where I stayed. And went
there. And knelt down and said he’s sorry he’s been a jerk. And make it up with me. Then that
would make me the happiest girl in the world. But that never came. It remained a dream I
secretly wished in my heart. Years passed since he said goodbye, and still no Jerome.
And now he calls, after all those years. Pleading for me to go back home to the
Philippines. To meet him again.
“Ok, theoretical question. Suppose I go home, and we meet again. Then what?”
“Pag nagkita tayo uli, at binigyan mo ako ng pagkakataon, di na kita pakakawalan. Alam ko
marami akong naging pagkukulang. Babawiin ko lahat yun. Hinding hindi ka na iiyak sa piling ko.”
How I’ve longed to hear those words from him! I just know those words would have sent me to
heaven and back. How I have longed to hear from him that he wants me. That he needs me. That he
loves me. But why did he have to wait this long to tell me all these?
“ … … Kung hindi rin lang ikaw, huwag na. Ikaw lang ang hihintayin ko. Ito ang tandaan mo. Kahit anong mangyari, mahal na mahal kita……”
“Sige, pahinga ka na uli. Pasensya ka na nagising kita.” Click.
The phone rang again.
“Krystal? Tumatawag ako kanina pero nobody was picking up the phone.”
That’s my boyfriend. The person who has shown me what love really is. The person who has stuck
with me all the way through. Who never got tired of me. Who has never made me cry. Who helped me
pick up the pieces of my life, and lifted me up when I needed it most.
“Sorry. There was some freaky guy who called at 6AM, talked and talked … pero wrong number pala.
Sheesh.”
I think the conversation with Jerome’s best left here… with me. With every other memory of him
stashed away somewhere, in a far corner of my heart.
###############
Krystal believes in second chances, but she
believes too, that some things are just not
meant to be.
-----
I picked up the phone, and all I heard was the sound of the radio on the other line.
“Don’t give up on us baby, we’re still worth one more try …”
Dang. Who’s this freak on the other side of the phone? It’s too early for pranks. It’s just 6AM
on a freakin’ Sunday! Who is awake by this time? And I really had a lousy night trying to fix my
PC. I’m pissed, and this person’s in big trouble. I could look up his number and report
him to the police for ‘interference of a peaceful and much-needed sleep’.
“Hello?” “Hello, Krystal? Sorry nagising yata kita. Si Jerome ito.”
I felt like I was doused with ice cold water. How could I forget the voice? After all these
years, it still sounded so sweet. It still has that effect on me. Suddenly, my heart is beating
faster.
Jerome. How could I not remember? I didn’t just used to know him. I used to love him.
“Gusto ko lang marinig ang boses mo. Marinig lang kita, ang tawa mo, sumasaya na ako uli.”
I can hear him. He is crying on the other end. Somehow, my heart bleeds for him too. I know
what he feels. Because I have been in the same situation – when he left me.
We were once an ‘us’. We were the envy of our peers back in highschool. He was THE heartthrob,
and I can say I’m not that bad looking either. We had things going for us. I can still remember
how in love I was. I can still remember walking in clouds, and believing my own little fairy
tales in my own little world. I believed in all his promises – of forevers, and happy endings
and love like no other.
I loved him so much I could have offered him the world. I was ready to sacrifice anything for
him. True, I know he’s a playboy, but I accepted that fact and was even ready to become a martyr
if I had to. I loved him so much that nothing else mattered. But as all sob stories go, he left me. And when
he left me, he gave me no reasons. He just said it’s over. And for a while there, my life was
too. A part of me died, without even knowing why.
“Oo nga, ngayon ko lang nare-realize lahat ng ginawa ko. Ang dami kong pagkukulang sa iyo.
Totoo nga yung sabi nila, kung kailan wala na sa iyo ang tao, saka mo lang mare realize ang worth
nya.”
I was a wreck when he left me. It took me years to let the wounds heal. Everyday, I would stay
late at school – just watching him in the CAT training they have every afternoon. I’d watch
him flirt with other girls. I’d watch in one corner, crying my heart out. I didn’t care if
other people thought I was too pathetic. I didn’t care the sight of him being sweet with
another girl killed me over again. The sight of him was my only life.
“Iba ka. Oo maraming babae, pero iisa ka lang. Wala na akong makikitang tulad mo. Iba kang
magmahal. Naalala ko pa kung paano mo ako inaasikaso noon. Naaalala ko kung paano mo ako
ipinaglaban sa parents mo.”
He left me when my parents knew of our relationship. He was afraid of my parents. And
he didn’t want to take responsibility. While I fought for him, he was there, exchanging sweet
nothings with another.
Highschool passed. When I got into college, the pain was still there. I remember walking back to
my dorm every afternoon, secretly hoping that he somehow looked up where I stayed. And went
there. And knelt down and said he’s sorry he’s been a jerk. And make it up with me. Then that
would make me the happiest girl in the world. But that never came. It remained a dream I
secretly wished in my heart. Years passed since he said goodbye, and still no Jerome.
And now he calls, after all those years. Pleading for me to go back home to the
Philippines. To meet him again.
“Ok, theoretical question. Suppose I go home, and we meet again. Then what?”
“Pag nagkita tayo uli, at binigyan mo ako ng pagkakataon, di na kita pakakawalan. Alam ko
marami akong naging pagkukulang. Babawiin ko lahat yun. Hinding hindi ka na iiyak sa piling ko.”
How I’ve longed to hear those words from him! I just know those words would have sent me to
heaven and back. How I have longed to hear from him that he wants me. That he needs me. That he
loves me. But why did he have to wait this long to tell me all these?
“ … … Kung hindi rin lang ikaw, huwag na. Ikaw lang ang hihintayin ko. Ito ang tandaan mo. Kahit anong mangyari, mahal na mahal kita……”
“Sige, pahinga ka na uli. Pasensya ka na nagising kita.” Click.
The phone rang again.
“Krystal? Tumatawag ako kanina pero nobody was picking up the phone.”
That’s my boyfriend. The person who has shown me what love really is. The person who has stuck
with me all the way through. Who never got tired of me. Who has never made me cry. Who helped me
pick up the pieces of my life, and lifted me up when I needed it most.
“Sorry. There was some freaky guy who called at 6AM, talked and talked … pero wrong number pala.
Sheesh.”
I think the conversation with Jerome’s best left here… with me. With every other memory of him
stashed away somewhere, in a far corner of my heart.
###############
Krystal believes in second chances, but she
believes too, that some things are just not
meant to be.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
You fall anyway because you think he might turn out to be different.
Joey Parker: [Mary is walking, and Joey calls her over] Mary!
[She turns the other direction. He runs after her]
Joey Parker: Hey! Mary? Mary, slow down! Hey hey hey. What's wrong? I've been calling Tami trying to get a hold of you.
[Mary looks like she's about to cry]
Joey Parker: What did I do?
Mary: It doesn't matter. It's done. We're done.
[she walks away]
Joey Parker: [Joey catches back up to her] Woah. What are you talking about?
Mary: Did you feel sorry for me? Was it your charity case? Is that why you asked me out?
Joey Parker: What does that even...
Mary: [Mary interrupts him] You figured you could toy with me until someone better came along, and I wouldn't mind because I was lucky big star wanna be. Well, you know what really sucks about falling for a guy you know you're not right for? You fall anyway because you think he might turn out to be different.
[She tries to leave, but Joey stops her]
Joey Parker: Mary...
Mary: Anyway, thanks for all the dance moves, but I'm done dancing. Goodbye.
[She turns the other direction. He runs after her]
Joey Parker: Hey! Mary? Mary, slow down! Hey hey hey. What's wrong? I've been calling Tami trying to get a hold of you.
[Mary looks like she's about to cry]
Joey Parker: What did I do?
Mary: It doesn't matter. It's done. We're done.
[she walks away]
Joey Parker: [Joey catches back up to her] Woah. What are you talking about?
Mary: Did you feel sorry for me? Was it your charity case? Is that why you asked me out?
Joey Parker: What does that even...
Mary: [Mary interrupts him] You figured you could toy with me until someone better came along, and I wouldn't mind because I was lucky big star wanna be. Well, you know what really sucks about falling for a guy you know you're not right for? You fall anyway because you think he might turn out to be different.
[She tries to leave, but Joey stops her]
Joey Parker: Mary...
Mary: Anyway, thanks for all the dance moves, but I'm done dancing. Goodbye.
An Excerpt from the movie Another Cinderella Story
Friday, July 23, 2010
Check (from Peyups.com)
Thursday, October 28, 2004 @ 12:00:30 AM
Unexpectedly you came. Indifferent and clueless but you had the aura of complexity. I didn't bother to recognize the beauty that was innate in you for it was just one of those senseless conversations for me. We were both minding our own pointless existence. As the witty exchange of words drew us together, it suddenly occurred to me that this was different. You were different. I instantly noticed how amazingly smart you were. That and more.
I was the black pawn. You were the white knight. We were always on the same board but we never had our squares aligned. While I was busy protecting, shielding my own realm, you were having your own share of victorious moments. I took my steps one square at a time, constantly being aware of the threat that haunted me for years. Your valor radiated from within while your horse galloped. Your mere presence was too overwhelming for me not to notice.
You were my metaphor.
Your vagueness was intriguing me.
For some strange reason it was as if I understood every crap you've been telling me. I just refused to acknowledge the fact that they were affecting me this much. I was trying desperately hard to resist being dragged any further into this but the scent of paranoia that once lingered in my whole being seemed to have faded.
It had its toll.
You had me.
We both knew that we could not justify the mediocrity of it all. You once told me that caring for someone over SMS was hypocrisy. Still you said you meant those words that you blurted out that one midnight when I was about to hit the sack. How ironic. I had doubts about its sincerity, though. I told you that. You didn't argue. You just understood.
I was confused that's why I just had to draw the line. I didn't want to hold on to something that was not even there. You assured me that it was there, constantly hovering over my open palm. Somehow I just couldn't grasp it. Maybe because I was just trying hard to get a grip of it for I feared that it might go away. I realized that I wasn't letting it have a chance to calmly rest on my palm. I know you were just taking your time. You've been doing that from the start. You would never know how much I appreciated you for that. You were just probably as scared as I was. Not even half I bet, for now you have everything to lose.
I'm nearing the end of the chessboard. Soon I'll be transformed into a queen. I don't know how to rule. This whole sense of sovereignty and royalty is far too profound for me to comprehend.
Give me reasons to trust you.
Tell me you'll guard me with all your heart.
Tell me you'll erase the fear that I've been having of falling in love.
Assure me that you've the one I've been longing for and I'll forever be yours.
Check.
Your move・
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Ang Pagkamatay ng Ideyalismo (Coffee and Chaos from Peyups.com)
Unti-unti akong pinapatay ng aking konsensiya.
Halos masuka-suka na ako sa aking ginagawang job-hunting, paglipat-lipat ng opisina sa Ortigas para sa mga job interview, at pagikot-ikot sa kagubatan ng Ayala. Nakakahilo. Nakakapanghina. Nakakapanghinayang. Hanggang ngayon di ko pa rin matanggap na ito ang naging kahinanatnan ko, na sa di kalayuang panahon magiging alipin rin pala ako ng mga kapitalista. Wala pa ring kawala.
Matapos ikasuklam, kalabanin, banggain sa klasrum at lansangan ang konsepto ng kapitalismo, neo-kolonyalismo at ang samu’t saring manipestasyon nito sa Pilipinas, heto ako kumakatok sa pinto ng mga korporasyon, naghahanap ng trabaho. Nakakatawa kung tutuusin, parang isang absurdong bangungot.
“Welcome to the real world,” sabi ng tibak kong kaibigan, na ngayo’y isang disgruntled employee. “Buti ka pa, papasok pa lang, may panahon ka pang pumili at umayaw. Samantala ako, wiz! Heto, isang baklang nagpapakaputa. Nakakatawa, bakla na nga, puta pa. Mas keri pa nga kong tumalon na lang ako mula sa tuktok churva ng building. At least, namatay akong intact ang dignidad at hindi nagpapalamon sa sistema.”
Isa lang siya sa marami kong kakilala na araw-araw, segu-segundo ay digmaan: digmaan sa pagitan ng kanilang pinaniniwalaan at realidad. At gaya sa rally at malawakang pagkilos sa lansangan, madugo at marahas ang bawat sagupaan. Di mo malaman kung sino ang nagwagi, kung sino ang talunan sa araw na iyon dahil parehong ayaw magpatinag. At sa paglubog ng araw, may panibagong bukas namang kakalabanin, may panibagong giyera. Mahirap talaga mamuhay sa sinapupunan ng demonyo. Pero ikanga ng bandang Garbage, “the trick is to keep breathing.”
“Pero makakaraos din tayo,” seryoso niyang sinabi, “hangga’t buhay ang diwa sa iyong kaloob-looban, hanggang naniniwala ka, magkakaroon ka ng sapat na lakas upang makayanan mong mabuhay dito sa mundo. At ito ang katatandaan mo, huwag na huwag kang magpapalamon. Mabubulok ka lang sa sistema. Remember Leo, darating din ang rebolusyon.”
Darating din ang rebolusyon. Bigla akong natahimik at natulala nang narinig ko ‘yon. Darating din ang rebolusyon. Parang isang himig na napakasarap pakinggan. Pero kailan ito darating? Buhay pa ba ako no’n? Ano ang gagawin ko habang hinihintay ang rebolusyon?
Mahirap habulin ang isang mailap na pangarap. Mahirap maniwala sa isang ideolohiyang kumukontra sa dominanteng hegemonya. Mahirap baguhin ang sistema kung kunti lang kayo at mardyinalisado. Unti-unti ka kasi nilang sinasakal, pinapatay ‘di lang katawan pati diwa’t kaluluwa, pati panaginip. Mahirap pala maging isang progresibong peti-burgis ngayon sa panahon ng ligalig.
Ayoko ko kasi maging isang robot at alipin ng bundy clock. Ayoko maging bahagi ng dambuhalang assembly line ng mga kompanyang multi-national. Ayoko maging sunod-sunuran sa mga alagad, propeta at mga pantas ng kapitalismo. Pero kahit saan man ako mapadpad, nandoon sila, hinihikayat akong sumakay sa kanilang magic carpet ride.
Sa madaling salita, ayoko maging isang makina. Gusto kong manatiling isang tao.
Napagisip-isipan ko, heto na siguro ang hamon sa amin sa kasalukuyan, paano kami mamumuhay habang nakikipagsagupaan sa kalaban, paano namin dadalhin ang laban sa pinili naming career, paano namin ipagpapatuloy ang paggiba sa status quo, sa dominante at mapang-aping sistema, paano namin bubuwagin ang elite democracy, paano namin ipaglalaban ang mga mardyinalisadong sektor ng ating lipunan. Isang malaking hamon na hindi namin pwedeng atrasan.
Madali lang ang buhay ko noong ako’y estudyante pa lamang. Malayo kasi ako sa galamay ng kalaban, prinoprotektahan pa ako ng mapagkalingang yakap ng akademya. Pero ngayong ako’y parang isang sanggol na iniluwal sa mundo nang walang kalaban-laban, paano ako mamumuhay at makikipagtunggali sa bago at mas malupit na tereyn ng kontensyon?
Gaya ng mga kaibigan ko, araw-araw ko’y magiging isang digmaan na rin.
At habang ako’y unti-unting pinuputakte ng aking konsensiya, magtitiis muna ako. Magkukunwari, maghahanap, magpapatangay, susuong sa rumaragasang agos ng buhay habang unti-unti kong hinuhukay ang aking libingan.
Balang araw, makakalaya rin ako/tayo. Balang araw.
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my sincerest apology for not acknowledging the author of this article.
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my sincerest apology for not acknowledging the author of this article.
currently, peyups.com articles are not available for public viewing(i don't know if maintenance pa rin ba or talagang tinanggal na nila lahat ng articles dun.), so once na okay na ulit yung site nila, i'll make sure to acknowledge the author of articles posted in this blog. thanks and enjoy! :)
3 Words that mean the MOST...
another article from peyups.com by caravaggio... enjoy!
http://peyups.com/article.khtml?sid=3831
The three words that mean the most aren’t “I love you”, with its history of being an accomplice to lies, with its bad reputation as a myth.
What is “I love you” but the easy way out, the secret weapon revealed at the ends of long-drawn battles between desperation and despair?
”I love you” is what you say when you run out of valid arguments but decide to keep fighting anyway.
”I love you” is what you use when you want to appear to be someone you’re not. These are powerful words, powerful in the way that politicians and generals are nowadays, worth their weight in gold.
“I love you” has been the pillar of empires and friendships, and their causes for downfall.
”I love you” is where you build the tower of your trust, only to see it crumble down when these words are said to someone else. “I love you” is what you use when you want to be unfair, when you want to deliberately hurt.
“I love you” throws the whole equation in chaos, unbalances the seesaw. It implies the loss of reason and pride, but is used to manipulate, to blackmail, leaving behind disillusionment and disappointment.
The three words that mean the most aren’t “I want you”, with its raw, blatant inconsideration, its implications of a primal need that is best released orgasmically.
”I want you” is what spoiled brats say, it’s what selfish bitches say, it’s what horny boys say.
”I want you” is harsh, said through clenched teeth, said with wild eyes.
”I want you” is a physical sentence, the amalgamation of skin against a number of factors: skin on skin, fingernail on skin, teeth on skin. It is violent and rapid, a whirlwind of emotion, an explosion of saliva and other bodily fluids. These are words that have no origin, they emerge from the basest of instincts, they are triggered by smell, by touch, by the look of rawness in another person’s eyes. These are words that signal the coming of a storm, and like most storms, they wreak havoc and then depart, leaving behind ruin and wounds.
The three words that mean the most aren’t “I need you”, with its childish, clingy implications, its sad, pathetic grievances.
”I need you” leaves you open, blinding you to yourself, eradicating all traces of self-respect.
“I need you” is the dying breath of a failed relationship. It is the battlecry of an overpowered suitor. These words signal the clinging to memories that are either long gone, or never were. These words bypass true necessity to make fools out of the sayers. These are not words to be used by all; it takes the strongest persons to relay this message correctly. Otherwise all is naught, you only reveal yourself as an empty shell craving for something, anything, to fill it. But then, the strongest persons never have the need to say these words. It’s the irony of life. These words are like taking a knife to your throat and piercing your skin gently, leaving behind a trail of blood too thin for anyone to see, but painful enough for you to feel.
The three words that mean the most, I think, the ones that really hit the mark, and often in the most unexpected of ways, are “I miss you”.
This is the sentence that sends the message right home. Because what other message is there? Nothing else, except exactly just that, “I miss you”, and everything else is pulled along into it, like a chain reaction. Unlike “I love you” and the lies that go along with it, “I miss you” is honest and sincere, you only say it when you mean it, and you don’t have to mean it in a big way to really mean it. Unlike “I want you” and its expectations, “I miss you” offers all it has, and waits for nothing in return. Unlike “I need you” and its desperate whines, “I miss you” stands on its own, a whole entity in just three words, devoid of arms that cling to you for life.
“I miss you” means everything and nothing, it is unflinching and honest. It is upbeat and simple, with wisps of longing and clouds of hope. You miss people you used to love, people you used to want, people you used to need. But most of the time the missing is all that’s left, and that’s OK, there’s nothing else you’d change. The missing implies a past that remains in its rightful place. Or it implies the reality and possibilities of the present. It is hope and love and lust and peace all at the same time. Some people say that when they met that person, it was akin to “coming home”. And missing is this manifestation of home-sickness, the way people return to their homelands to die, the way all the comfort the world has to offer is nothing compared to the feeling of being in someone’s arms.
And that’s why I miss you, because you’re not here, and because every time I think about you, that’s all that I think. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, and the world turns for both of us, and I can’t wait until you come home.
What is “I love you” but the easy way out, the secret weapon revealed at the ends of long-drawn battles between desperation and despair?
”I love you” is what you say when you run out of valid arguments but decide to keep fighting anyway.
”I love you” is what you use when you want to appear to be someone you’re not. These are powerful words, powerful in the way that politicians and generals are nowadays, worth their weight in gold.
“I love you” has been the pillar of empires and friendships, and their causes for downfall.
”I love you” is where you build the tower of your trust, only to see it crumble down when these words are said to someone else. “I love you” is what you use when you want to be unfair, when you want to deliberately hurt.
“I love you” throws the whole equation in chaos, unbalances the seesaw. It implies the loss of reason and pride, but is used to manipulate, to blackmail, leaving behind disillusionment and disappointment.
The three words that mean the most aren’t “I want you”, with its raw, blatant inconsideration, its implications of a primal need that is best released orgasmically.
”I want you” is what spoiled brats say, it’s what selfish bitches say, it’s what horny boys say.
”I want you” is harsh, said through clenched teeth, said with wild eyes.
”I want you” is a physical sentence, the amalgamation of skin against a number of factors: skin on skin, fingernail on skin, teeth on skin. It is violent and rapid, a whirlwind of emotion, an explosion of saliva and other bodily fluids. These are words that have no origin, they emerge from the basest of instincts, they are triggered by smell, by touch, by the look of rawness in another person’s eyes. These are words that signal the coming of a storm, and like most storms, they wreak havoc and then depart, leaving behind ruin and wounds.
The three words that mean the most aren’t “I need you”, with its childish, clingy implications, its sad, pathetic grievances.
”I need you” leaves you open, blinding you to yourself, eradicating all traces of self-respect.
“I need you” is the dying breath of a failed relationship. It is the battlecry of an overpowered suitor. These words signal the clinging to memories that are either long gone, or never were. These words bypass true necessity to make fools out of the sayers. These are not words to be used by all; it takes the strongest persons to relay this message correctly. Otherwise all is naught, you only reveal yourself as an empty shell craving for something, anything, to fill it. But then, the strongest persons never have the need to say these words. It’s the irony of life. These words are like taking a knife to your throat and piercing your skin gently, leaving behind a trail of blood too thin for anyone to see, but painful enough for you to feel.
The three words that mean the most, I think, the ones that really hit the mark, and often in the most unexpected of ways, are “I miss you”.
This is the sentence that sends the message right home. Because what other message is there? Nothing else, except exactly just that, “I miss you”, and everything else is pulled along into it, like a chain reaction. Unlike “I love you” and the lies that go along with it, “I miss you” is honest and sincere, you only say it when you mean it, and you don’t have to mean it in a big way to really mean it. Unlike “I want you” and its expectations, “I miss you” offers all it has, and waits for nothing in return. Unlike “I need you” and its desperate whines, “I miss you” stands on its own, a whole entity in just three words, devoid of arms that cling to you for life.
“I miss you” means everything and nothing, it is unflinching and honest. It is upbeat and simple, with wisps of longing and clouds of hope. You miss people you used to love, people you used to want, people you used to need. But most of the time the missing is all that’s left, and that’s OK, there’s nothing else you’d change. The missing implies a past that remains in its rightful place. Or it implies the reality and possibilities of the present. It is hope and love and lust and peace all at the same time. Some people say that when they met that person, it was akin to “coming home”. And missing is this manifestation of home-sickness, the way people return to their homelands to die, the way all the comfort the world has to offer is nothing compared to the feeling of being in someone’s arms.
And that’s why I miss you, because you’re not here, and because every time I think about you, that’s all that I think. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you, and the world turns for both of us, and I can’t wait until you come home.
----------------------------------------------------
true nga naman! imissyou is far better iloveyou, iwantyou and i needyou.
imissyoutangerns.
missyou dei,jane,allen,ysa,ehr, mk.[nagdadrama lang, di kasi matuloytuloy ang akyat sa baguio. tsk. postpone kasi ang finals. hmp! :p ]
Pseudo Relationships (from peyups.com)
PARANG KAYO PERO HINDI
-She is a 28-year-old virgin. He's a 35-year-old bachelor. Both mountaineers, they became close during their climbs. After a few dates in posh restaurants, he brings her to his condo where they would make out. They have been doing this for months. She wants to believe that "sila na" but then she's not really sure about it. "We don't talk about it but it doesn't really matter," she'd tell her friends. "What's important is I am enjoying this -- whatever it is."
The "parang kayo, pero hindi" stage. Others call it MU or mutual understanding. Pseudo-relationships. Pseudo-boyfriends. Flings. Almost like a relationship, but not quite. It is a phase where the persons involved are more than friends, but not quite lovers. Puwedeng may verbal agreement, puwedeng wala. One or both of you may have admitted your feelings, possible ding hindi. You just let your gestures do the talking for you. Walang pormal na ligawan na nangyari. Hindi kayo mag-dyowa. Pero sa kilos niyo, sa mga sinasabi niyo, parang kayo, pero hindi.
This kind of "relationship" can happen at different stages for different reasons. It can happen after a break-up. You still love each other, and you want to be with each other but you broke up for a reason. And for reasons that you alone know, ayaw niyo na muna magkabalikan.
It can also happen before a relationship, iyong pareho kayong nakikiramdam. Possible din na ayaw niyo munang mag-seryoso kaya kunwa-kunwarian lang muna. Testing lang.
Puwede ring hindi puwedeng maging kayo kasi isa sa inyo --usually the guy --may ka-relasyon na. Kaya habang hindi pa siya nakikipag-break doon sa girl (sabi niya makikipag-break siya soon pero di naman niya ginagawa), wala muna kayong relasyon para nga naman hindi siya nangagaliwa kasi "hindi naman kayo."
This pseudo-relationship stage, for a time, can be fun. Lalo na kung naghahanap ka lang naman ng "kalaro."
Pero huwag ka lang mag-e-expect na may patutunguhan kayo kasi wala talagang kasiguraduhan.
So bakit ang daming nagse-settle sa ganitong set up ganoong hindi naman sigurado kung may patutunguhan?
Iba't ibang dahilan. Puwedeng for fun lang. Puwedeng "buti na iyan kesa wala" or puwede na iyang "pantawid-gutom." Meaning, habang wala pa iyong the real thing, doon muna sa kunwa-kunwarian.
For those who are not in a serious relationship, they would think that pseudo-relationship is better than no relationship at all. It would be fun, if all you are after for is that "kilig" feeling.
Aminado naman ako na once upon a time, may mga pseudo-relationships din ako. No commitments involved. For the simplest reason that they couldn't commit, because they were either committed to someone else, or that they weren't ready to commit.
My rationalization, "okay na iyun, kesa wala."
Ang habol ko lang naman, iyong kilig feeling. Iyong merong nagtatanong kung kumusta araw ko. Iyong merong ka-cuddle sa beach outing. Iyong kapag tumunog ang cellphone, mapapangiti na ako dahil alam kong galing sa kanya ang message. Iyong merong laging kasama. Habang wala pa ang the real thing, puwede na itong pagtiyagaan.
But then I learned that although it was only a pseudo-relationship, the emotions were real. And usually, in this kind of set up, ang babae lagi ang lugi.
Una, you can't ask him to commit. Since it's not really a relationship, you can't demand commitment from your partner. Ano ba kayo? May K ka nga ba magpasundo ng hatinggabi? You will always be uncertain about your role in his life. You can't expect him to be always there with you. And if you feel jealous of the other girls, you just have to keep it to yourself. Ano ka ba niya para magselos?
Pangalawa, what if you fall deeply in love with him? You can't be sure if he feels the same way. Baka nag-a-assume ka lang na mahal ka rin niya. Even if you are dying to tell him you love him, you can't. Because you're not sure if he'll like it. Baka mapahiya ka lang. This stage will always make you wonder where you are in the relationship. Or if there is a relationship at all.
Pangatlo, what if you become attached too much? What if you have invested all your emotions and this man hasn't? What if you remain faithful to him, not entertaining other guys, only to find out that he is seeing other girls?
Isa pang downside ng pseudo-relationships, it is fleeting. When a disagreement sets in, or when one of you gets cold, then that would be the end of it. Unlike in a serious relationship, hindi mo alam kung saan ka lulugar sa isang pseudo-relationship. Wala kang pinanghahawakan. Kasi sa pseudo-relationship, there is no "us." Meron lang "you and me," hindi "us."
Butisana
Ang hirap, ano? You agreed to this kind of set up for fun and then you'd end up hurting yourself in the process.
Pero puwede naman maiwasan ang pain eh. Puwede naman na hindi mo muna isipin ang future and just enjoy the feeling, without thinking of the consequences.
But if you are certain that you are going to hurt yourself in the process, kailangan mo mamili. You can be happy and live the moment without worrying what would happen next. Or you can stop settling with pseudo-relationships and wait for the real thing.
When I was younger and in a pseudo-relationship with an unavailable guy, a friend told me, "Sige, kung ayaw mong magpapigil, bahala ka. Magpakasaya ka. Pero huwag kang iiyak-iyak pagkatapos, dahil tatadyakan kita."
Ang bottom line lang naman, kung magpapasaya sa iyo, gawin mo. Ihanda mo lang ang sarili mo sa consequence. Dahil ang "parang kayo pero hindi" stage ay bihirang nagiging totoo. Usually, hanggang doon lang siya... almost, but not quite.
-She is a 28-year-old virgin. He's a 35-year-old bachelor. Both mountaineers, they became close during their climbs. After a few dates in posh restaurants, he brings her to his condo where they would make out. They have been doing this for months. She wants to believe that "sila na" but then she's not really sure about it. "We don't talk about it but it doesn't really matter," she'd tell her friends. "What's important is I am enjoying this -- whatever it is."
The "parang kayo, pero hindi" stage. Others call it MU or mutual understanding. Pseudo-relationships. Pseudo-boyfriends. Flings. Almost like a relationship, but not quite. It is a phase where the persons involved are more than friends, but not quite lovers. Puwedeng may verbal agreement, puwedeng wala. One or both of you may have admitted your feelings, possible ding hindi. You just let your gestures do the talking for you. Walang pormal na ligawan na nangyari. Hindi kayo mag-dyowa. Pero sa kilos niyo, sa mga sinasabi niyo, parang kayo, pero hindi.
This kind of "relationship" can happen at different stages for different reasons. It can happen after a break-up. You still love each other, and you want to be with each other but you broke up for a reason. And for reasons that you alone know, ayaw niyo na muna magkabalikan.
It can also happen before a relationship, iyong pareho kayong nakikiramdam. Possible din na ayaw niyo munang mag-seryoso kaya kunwa-kunwarian lang muna. Testing lang.
Puwede ring hindi puwedeng maging kayo kasi isa sa inyo --usually the guy --may ka-relasyon na. Kaya habang hindi pa siya nakikipag-break doon sa girl (sabi niya makikipag-break siya soon pero di naman niya ginagawa), wala muna kayong relasyon para nga naman hindi siya nangagaliwa kasi "hindi naman kayo."
This pseudo-relationship stage, for a time, can be fun. Lalo na kung naghahanap ka lang naman ng "kalaro."
Pero huwag ka lang mag-e-expect na may patutunguhan kayo kasi wala talagang kasiguraduhan.
So bakit ang daming nagse-settle sa ganitong set up ganoong hindi naman sigurado kung may patutunguhan?
Iba't ibang dahilan. Puwedeng for fun lang. Puwedeng "buti na iyan kesa wala" or puwede na iyang "pantawid-gutom." Meaning, habang wala pa iyong the real thing, doon muna sa kunwa-kunwarian.
For those who are not in a serious relationship, they would think that pseudo-relationship is better than no relationship at all. It would be fun, if all you are after for is that "kilig" feeling.
Aminado naman ako na once upon a time, may mga pseudo-relationships din ako. No commitments involved. For the simplest reason that they couldn't commit, because they were either committed to someone else, or that they weren't ready to commit.
My rationalization, "okay na iyun, kesa wala."
Ang habol ko lang naman, iyong kilig feeling. Iyong merong nagtatanong kung kumusta araw ko. Iyong merong ka-cuddle sa beach outing. Iyong kapag tumunog ang cellphone, mapapangiti na ako dahil alam kong galing sa kanya ang message. Iyong merong laging kasama. Habang wala pa ang the real thing, puwede na itong pagtiyagaan.
But then I learned that although it was only a pseudo-relationship, the emotions were real. And usually, in this kind of set up, ang babae lagi ang lugi.
Una, you can't ask him to commit. Since it's not really a relationship, you can't demand commitment from your partner. Ano ba kayo? May K ka nga ba magpasundo ng hatinggabi? You will always be uncertain about your role in his life. You can't expect him to be always there with you. And if you feel jealous of the other girls, you just have to keep it to yourself. Ano ka ba niya para magselos?
Pangalawa, what if you fall deeply in love with him? You can't be sure if he feels the same way. Baka nag-a-assume ka lang na mahal ka rin niya. Even if you are dying to tell him you love him, you can't. Because you're not sure if he'll like it. Baka mapahiya ka lang. This stage will always make you wonder where you are in the relationship. Or if there is a relationship at all.
Pangatlo, what if you become attached too much? What if you have invested all your emotions and this man hasn't? What if you remain faithful to him, not entertaining other guys, only to find out that he is seeing other girls?
Isa pang downside ng pseudo-relationships, it is fleeting. When a disagreement sets in, or when one of you gets cold, then that would be the end of it. Unlike in a serious relationship, hindi mo alam kung saan ka lulugar sa isang pseudo-relationship. Wala kang pinanghahawakan. Kasi sa pseudo-relationship, there is no "us." Meron lang "you and me," hindi "us."
Buti
Ang hirap, ano? You agreed to this kind of set up for fun and then you'd end up hurting yourself in the process.
Pero puwede naman maiwasan ang pain eh. Puwede naman na hindi mo muna isipin ang future and just enjoy the feeling, without thinking of the consequences.
But if you are certain that you are going to hurt yourself in the process, kailangan mo mamili. You can be happy and live the moment without worrying what would happen next. Or you can stop settling with pseudo-relationships and wait for the real thing.
When I was younger and in a pseudo-relationship with an unavailable guy, a friend told me, "Sige, kung ayaw mong magpapigil, bahala ka. Magpakasaya ka. Pero huwag kang iiyak-iyak pagkatapos, dahil tatadyakan kita."
Ang bottom line lang naman, kung magpapasaya sa iyo, gawin mo. Ihanda mo lang ang sarili mo sa consequence. Dahil ang "parang kayo pero hindi" stage ay bihirang nagiging totoo. Usually, hanggang doon lang siya... almost, but not quite.
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