Sunday, July 20, 2014

{ The Happy List: #9 }

  1. Receiving an unexpected green dream catcher from a friend
  2. Finally having the time to re-arrange my room
  3. Listening to Thinking Out Loud for the nth time in my life. I love you Ed Sheerioo!
  4. Sincere compliments from friends
  5. A big jar of raisins covered in milk chocolate (drools..)
  6. My long bobcat hair (which is growing way too fast by the way and it's just been a month!)
  7.  Talk Dirty // Jason Derulo (heeeh)
  8. Pizza. Need I say more?
  9. Late night endless phone calls and skype conversations with you
  10. You reading poems to me over the phone
  11. C H A S I N G    C A R S
  12. "It's a full moon here tonight which makes me think of you. Cause I know no matter what I'm doing, no matter where I am, this moon will always be the same size as yours, half a world away."
  13. School, because allowance!
  14. School, because Hi crush!
  15. The cuteness that is my two pamangkins
  16. "Ang weird mo Bunny." That, I consider a compliment! :D
  17. Ang sarap ng SEX. As in Sinigang EXpress (now there's your dirty mind)
  18. Finding money inside your jean's pocket
  19. Super moon 07/12/14 ( I WAS IN LOVE with it)
  20. Colorful sunsets and you're in a 30-something-floor inside a building and you get to witness the beautiful, beautiful city lights
  21. When your friends are happy that you are happy
  22. Intelligent conversations with sensible people
  23. My silver necklace with my name in cursive as a pendant
  24. Finding your old journal back in high school and laughing at your "my new crush" written entry. OH GOD.
  25. Late night warm showers
  26. Being absolutely happy for no reason at all or better yet, for all the reasons there are in the world, what is there to be sad and grumpy about anyway?
  27. I'm quite sure this list could reach a hundred so I'm stopping
  28. Typing the last one realizing you have a hundred reasons to be happy
  29. Seriously I should stop I'm giggling rn I must be truly happy
  30. I'm happy
  31. Sarap mabuhay..

Saturday, July 12, 2014

traverse, v.

I started to cry, and you quickly said, “No — i mean this part is over. We have to get to the next part.” And I said, “I'm not sure we can.”
Without having to think about it, you replied, “Of course we can.”
“How can you be so sure?” I asked.
And you said, “I'm sure. Isn't that enough?”

An excerpt from David Levithan's The Lover's Dictionary
(Pronouns were changed for the purpose of this blog post)

Wednesday, July 09, 2014

This is how you lose her

This is how you lose her. 
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.

You must remember when she forgets.
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.
She remembers when you forget. 

You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the  beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable.She wants to feel cherished.When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate.She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.

You must learn her.
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her.

Excerpt from Junot Diaz, This is How You Lose Her.

Wednesday, July 02, 2014

Six Feet Under the Stars

I wanted nothing else but to lie down right next to you under the stars and talk about the universe and all its wonders. That was one of those rare times that I wished the time really did stop. And although in reality it didn't, I still felt like it did. Like our world was frozen for awhile and we were separated from the actual wolrd. And that we were unaware of everything else except us. It felt like suddenly the two of us were inside this world—a big dome where the night sky is decorated with plenty of stars accompanied by the waxing gibbous moon; in front of us, the waves are kissing the shore and make such ethereal sounds; the salty smell of the ocean in the air; the feel and warmth of the sand on our toes and on our backs; the cool breeze kissing our skins and sending goosebumps all over. As if your presence isn't enough to give me those.

The conversations we had felt like it could go on forever and I wouldn't get tired. You pointed out to me the Orion and the Dipper and tried to imagine the Aurora in the Maldives beach where there are lots of planktons that illuminate the water. And then started reminiscing the six years. Then the apologies, your dreams, my dreams, the plans, the inside jokes, your songs, my songs, your pain, my pain, fears, mistakes, weirds, your scars, my scars, your stories and my stories back from the time when we were still together and into the time when we were in our separate ways. It was the kind conversation where you strip down everything and bare yourself naked in front of someone hoping that the other person would take it all in. I did. You did.

I wonder if the Universe planned this all along. And if the stars conspired as well and if the moon kept it secretly.

Pasacao Beach and that particular scene in that particular part of the beach will never be the same to me.

Friday, June 27, 2014

Kwentong Komyuter #1

          Ito ang kwento ko. Ito ang kwento mo. Ito ang kwento nating lahat. Mapa padyak, tricycle, jeep, bus, MRT at LRT, sari sari ang mga pangyayari na tiyak bumubuo ng araw mo. Magmula sa mga estudyanteng kung makapag kwentuhan sa jeep feeling nasa park lang sila, at yung mga nakakairitang umuupo sa pinakaunahang gilid ng bus para kapay uupo ka, pilit mong pagkakasyahin ang puwet mo dahil ikaw ang uupo sa gitna nang tatluhang upuan ng bus. Napapaisip ka nalang, ganoon ba kahirap umusog? First come dulong bintana upo, please lang mga ate at kuya.

          Bilang isang tipikal na college student, na hindi ganoon pinagpalang magkaroon ng family car at lalong walang sariling kotse, isa ako sa nagraramihang dumadanas ng hirap sa buhay commuter. Sa apat na taon, araw-araw kung ano anong klase na ng usok ang nalanghap ko, from gray smoke to black smoke, may bonus pang mga dust yan para kumpleto. Nakikipag unahan makasakay sa unang bus na tumitigil. Pumipila ng mahigit dalwang oras para sa shuttle napakatagal dumating. Makipag bungguan sa MRT at LRT, sumigaw at maki usap maiabot lang ang bayad mo sa driver ng pasaherong nagbibingi bingihan dahil may sakit ka ata at nakakahawang mahawakan ang mga baryang galing sa iyong kamay.

          Dito tayo magsisimula, everyday encounters susubukan nating maitala. Para pag bored ka, malala mo kung gano ka katibay dahil commuter ka at nakakasalumuha ang iba ibang klase ng tao sa iisang sasakyan, umulan man o umaraw.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Life lately, in bullets

  • I've been out quite a lot lately. My friends are done with their summer classes so we mostly go out and spend time together.
  • When I am at home, (this is to say my nephew, who is 6 months, is not around the house) you'll find me sitting in the chair under the Golden Showers, alone with my journal, and my thoughts.
  • I've been a sucker for blog posts lately. I'm starting to think that it's hard to write things when there's so much that's been going on. They are happening all at once that I couldn't take hold of it. It's bursting and all I can do is be here and feel every thing. And it's absolutely amazing.
  • Also, I think people write more clearly and properly when they are sad or lonely. But when you're happy, you go stupid. Like, how do I even hold a pen?
  • What I'm trying to say is I am overdosed with happy pills and I feel like flying. Thanks pixie dust!
  • Most of my recent write ups have long been sitting on my drafts. I've been drawing a lot of inspiration from the stories I hear from people who tell me about their lives. I try to be emphatic sometimes when I write.
  • Although I can never capture entirely the emotions those people felt when those things happened to them. I'd like to think that I do, but my subconscious tells me the prose and poetry sucks. (Shut up will you?!)
  • I look like a very toasted bread already. I've missed the beach that's why I stayed under the sun too much for my own good. 
  • One Direction is coming to the Philippines on March. I am hyperventilating because of this. I really wanted to go but c'mon, what person shits 18, 000 in a day?
  • I am never drinking again with an empty stomach. Plus the doctor said I should not. Why am I so stubborn? Thank you for friends who laugh at you while you are throwing up. Real funny guys. Really funny.
  • Made graham balls for the litol kids, they loved them.
  • One month until my classes resume!!! Aaghh I have mixed feelings about this! But anyway, let's enjoy the now.
  • I hope where ever you are, you are as happy as I am. Happy summer stardusts! :)

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Little secrets

I remember the small room—
the shut windows and doors,
and the golden light from the small opening in the window.
I remember how it gives the room a warm feel,
like the room was on fire.
And for a moment I thought it was,
only it was the fire in our eyes,
only it was the fire in our hearts.

I remember the feel of you—
your eyes straight into mine,
your hands everywhere,
your kisses everywhere,
your eyes never leaving mine,
your disheveled hair and the ragged breaths,
your love bites and your smell,
your arm, your leg, you entirely.

I remember the tiny flowing currents.
I remember laying my head on your naked chest.
I remember the unsteady heart beats.
I remember you burying your face on my neck.
I remember the sigh that escaped my lips.

Do you remember? Do you still keep these secrets?
I want to know because I remember.
Was it love? Was it the fire in our hearts?
Who were we back then?
I don't know.
But when I look at you,
somehow everything made sense.

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