dear ms. melancholy thursday,

today i feel tired and lost, like a butterfly wandering on a rainy, early winter morning. everything is unsurprisingly noisy, except for the slow drizzle of thought continuously striking the void of my soul. there is no drain, and the droplets have gathered to one corner of me. i feel the heaviness of my heart more than anything else.

i waited for you all afternoon long, just outside the chapel, under the trees where the concrete benches sit. it was strangely windy, and everything seemed to move so fast, except for me - stuck in within the moment.

time was in a hurry… it wasn’t long before it turned dark. you never came, and all the while i never smiled.

all i had then was a pen and paper in my hand. and i thought of leaving you a note saying that tomorrow i’ll wait again… but i know i need not remind you. ive waited everyday, you know that tomorrow i’ll be there.

so i wrote you this letter instead.

when once asked on why i write, i used to say “i write to ease the pain”… i still do and this time is no different at all.

you haven’t been speaking to me for so long now. I’ve grown familiar with your silence; you always try to make it up by telling me you’ll catch up with things anytime soon… it makes me wonder who really needs to keep up with how we’re doing… you say that it’ you, but i think it really is me who has some catching up to do.

most of the time, love is magic and make believe. ive come up with a way of compromising what i think you’re saying with what i want to hear… i hope im not mistaken if i think we’d never end up like this. i will never forget the things you never said.

tomorrow ill be back, to where i always wait for you. don’t worry,

you didn’t miss anything today… i just missed you.

rR

wall flowie

while the orange fiesta of the sunset comes to and indigo closing,
i am stuck by your beautiful presence in my eyes.
and while the alien darkness sets in,
your presence remains a silent, stagnant silhouette -
your have stopped speaking…
and youve become a distant star; bright, silent.
the light of my world now comes from your twinkling eyes

so you force me to beg the question –
have i been talking to a wall the whole time?

if so, then what a beautiful wall stands in my presence.
where melancholy vines have started creeping in
through the cracked sienna bricks that is your heart.

the night has blossomed and the darkness of the wall’s shadow embraces me
you have remained silent…. your look have stopped short of sharp
i have never ceased to remain here with you
with my solemn look and my whispering lips…

why oh why do i keep talking to the wall?
only to hear my own questions hit me back again and again

so have you really turned into a wall?
your sturdy presence and your cold eyes stops me from seeing anything else but you
the world is in fact behind you..
and i have stopped caring what may lie beyond your pristine shadows
for all the beauty that may come
stops short of what you are to me

i do not seek to see more
nor have i stopped searching for i have found what my heart seeks
and i have found the answers to why despite the bleak silence
i never left you..

for i have felt no loneliness…
for each time i speak,
there’s a different tone
echoing back the very same words of my love

summer ‘08 - remnants of my ephemeral political outlook

the soil is rich but we die poor

over the last few slow days, I’ve been thinking of my own, simple ways of saving the world. i definitely am feeling mom nature starting to change for the strange. first, its raining right in the middle of summer, on days when you actually thought the sun was never gonna set. then theres tropical depression Ambo, who was deviant enough to spend a little bit of beach bumming in the fine shores of palawan. and now im blogging again. if i go back to school next semester, its because the world is, and will be in a deviant mood all year long.

saving the world is a matter of politics. why it has to be saved in the first place is a matter of politics. and in order to change the world, may it be for better or for worse, you have to have a poker face of a thousand gamblers. in order to have a poker face of a thousand gamblers, you’ve got to have face of a politician. the point is, just as money makes the world go round, politics equally does. its not hard to figure that one out.

a friend told me that i was going to become a liability to the country for not being politically concious. i still dont understand how the word “liability” would apply to me, although i acknowledge the fact that i may have been politically uncioncious all my life. i was already 19 during the 2007 elections but the thought of voting never really crossed my mind. i still wonder on what could have happened had i voted. come 2010, i still dont see myself voting. the ecstasy of second-guessing yourself after youve made a big decision will surely be tempting. if you see my name under the voters list, that’s not me. perhaps a flying voter; and surely, somebody’s cheating again.

i never liked politics and it will always remain that way. i would even choose to watch kris aquino for countless hours over politicians showboating over the airwaves. i don’t like it to the extent that ill stop talking about it right now.

fortunately, i don’t have to be politically caring so i can change the world.

as i’ve gained a bit of liberal thinking since i took a break from school, i’ve also gained the concern for the people around me. im so used to seeing a lot without saying something, and its probably time i say something. say something to myself, that is.

“Be the change you want to see in the world.” - Mahatma Gandhi

“keep the change…” - myself, whenever the change is handful of ten and five cents anyway.

i don’t see the point in ranting now. lots of effort go to waste when we try to remind the government about their obligations. thats why I never became a fan of rallying in the streets. aside from being afraid of burning my skin, it just adds to the suffering we are all complaining about in the first place. no, i don’t hate the people who take it out to the streets. I understand their sentiments but its just not my style. its a matter of preference really.

i choose to do simple stuff that speaks change for itself. im hardly a saint, but sometimes i feel the divinities of the world pushing me to the light side. miraculous. just what the world can do with right now… you can probably start out by helping a struggling classmate in a middle of a horrendous exam. or you may not. =P

help clean your neighborhood. eat less, exercise more. try to do a lot of things without electricity involved. pray for world peace. whatever it is, as long as the love is there. though it might just sound like a whisper compared to the passionate shouting in the streets under the mighty sun, it will always be the easiest way to change the world.

a hundred’s whispers straight to the heart will always be harder to avoid than a thousand’s monotonous cry.

written: April 14, 2008 in redeemingmadness.blogspot.com and jdizzler.blogspot.com

summer ‘08 - the remnants of bohol

im the prodigal son of a beach

I’ve realized that I’m going to be in a lot of moving from now on. In the next few weeks, I should be out of town to visit the outlandishly beautiful beaches of Visayas. That’s if everything goes well and perfect. I’m hoping for less rain in the coming month. Beach and rainfall never made a good pair. But not too much sun either. I don’t want to be too chocalatey when I come back.

In the mean time, the movement lies in my hands. My fingers are doing the tick talk. More like the music of the clock. Sounds like I never cease to do something. From clearances to ranting online, my little army of ten does it all. I should buy ten rings to crown them all the kings of my world.

All my days are becoming ridiculously slow. Friday night never had the chance to beg differ. So now I’m stuck wishing for tomorrow to be extra lively. I have plans of going out with my friends. Not even the most sinister of rains will stop us. I’m more scared of getting wet without somebody by my side. It gets colder when you’re alone.

Four days from now, I’m going to celebrate something. April 22 is the day when I had my circumcision. A multitude of years has passed and the memory lies fresh in a certain corner of my heart. Maybe because two beautiful student nurses were there during the whole process, intently watching while my pants was nowhere to be seen. I suppose it made things easier for the doctor. Not for me.

April 22, 2008 is earth day. Why don’t we all plant a little something for the big future? Like happiness or peace or love or everything of the above.

It’s no coincidence that ‘earth’ and ’heart’ are just a letter apart.

Greetings from my cobra and me.

[written April 18, 2008 in redeemingmadness.blogspot.com and jdizzler.blogspot.com]

random thoughts; kwentong bulaklakin

minsan, sa aking paglalakad mag-isa tungo sa ‘zen state of mind’ (soul searching kumbaga), ay may nakatagpo akong isang paru-paro na tila’y lumilipad na walang direksyon, animo’y nawawala sa karangyaan at kagandahan ng mundo. marahil sa pagka “werla” nito ay napilitan syang lapitan ako nung nagtagpo ang aming mga tingin, at tinanong ako “alam mo ba ang daan patungong langit, kaibigan?”.

napagbuntong hininga ako, at napag-isip ng napakalalim. hindi ako nakasagot agad, at nung napansin ng paru-paro na kumukunot na ang aking nuo sa kakaisip ay kumunot rin ang antenna nito. kami’y nasalakab sa isang moment of silence.

“define langit…” ang mga salitang bumulalas sa aking bibig sa pagmamadaling hanapan ng paraan upang biyakin ang moment of silence na yun, na sinabayan ko ng isang makamundong ngiti na nagbabadya kung anong klase ng langit ang napapaloob sa aking isipan.

“langit ‘pre… yun yung term namin sa pinaka magandang hardin dito sa inyo. kung saan may sang damakmak na bulaklak na fresh na fresh at namumukadkad sa kagandahan…” tugon nito. sa pagkakataong iyon ay naisip ko na ang langit para sa paru-parong ito at ang langit na syang iniisip ko ay hindi pala nagkakalayo. dun ko rin naisip na may mga lalakeng paru-paro pala… kung sabagay, ndi ko rin pwedeng i judge ang gender nya sa kulay ng mga pakpak nyang pink sapagkat ang suot ko na t-shirt nun ay sumisigaw na yellow green with pink accent lines all over. char

“ah, yun ba? alam ko yun.. ang totoo nyan, dun ko itutuloy ang kasukdulan ng aking soul searching. ikaw?”

“andun ang gerlprend ko ‘pre… bagong relocate kasi sila mula sa pinag-lumaang garden dun sa isang kanto. magkikita kami ngayon, para, you know na.. pollinate. hihihi” sagot ng paru-paro, na may halong kilig na tumatakbo sa buong katawan nito. may mga hayop palang sadyang korny.

“o sige, sabay na tayo.. pero teka, sa dinami-rami ng bulaklak dun, sigurado ka bang makikilala mo pa yung gerlprend mo?” usisa ko.

“syempre.. lovers’ instinct tol.. wala ka nun ano?” sagot ng paru-paro.

lang h’ya, nang alaska pa tong paru-parong to. pero hindi na rin ako sumagot sapagkat may point rin naman sya. pano nga ba ako magkaka lovers’ instinct kung in the first place wala akong lover (na sya kong hinahanapan ng paraan sa mga panahong iyon). tsk tsk tsk

at yun na nga, nagpatuloy na kami sa aming paglalakad, at narating ang “langit” sa iilang minuto lamang. sa aming pagdating ay kapansin-pansin ang katahimikan ng lugar. naghanap ako ng pwesto kung saan makakapag relax ng mainam, at ang paru-paro ay naging busy sa paghahanap ng gerlprend nya. sa iilang sandali lang ay naispatan nya ito at inalok akong ipakilala sa mga kaibigan nyang bulaklak rin. sweet raw sila at fresh na fresh rin. “anong tingin mo saken? vegetarian?” ang syang biro ko, bago namin nilapitan ang gerlprend nya.

nung papalapit na kami ay may isang lalake ang biglang sumulpot mula sa kawalan ng kalawakang pumapagitna sa amin at sa mga bulaklak sa mga panahong iyon. at sa isang iglap ay pinitas ang gerlprend ng kawawang paru-paro, sabay takbo sa isang babaeng naka-upo sa isang lugar na ndi kalayuan sa aming kinatatayuan…

shet… ang babaeng yun ang syang babaeng nagpapatibok ng aking puso, ang dahilan kung bakit ako nag so-soul searching in the first place… ang babaeng matagal ko nang dinadala sa aking damdamin.

at isa pang shet para sa gerlprend ng paru-parong pinitas nung lalakeng ndi naman kagwapuhan, pero feeling matinee idol; may pabigay bigay pa ng flower na pwede naman sana nyang bilhin dun sa tapat ng sementeryo.

nung sinimulan ng tirisin ni crush ang bulaklak petal by petal, at nag “he loves me he loves me not” (na nagtapos sa “he love meee!” sabay halik sa actor) ay naramdaman ko ang pag-guho ng salingang aking kinatatayuan.

“o hindeeee!” ang bulong ng trahedya ng paru-parong tila nawalan na ng gana mabuhay.

ako nama’y tumalikod, at dahan dahang naglakad pauwi na may dalang masidhing damdamin sa aking nasaksihan… marahil dahil sa katotohanang sa pangyayaring ‘yon ay naisip ko na ganun lang pala kadali maulila ang mga puso ng mga nilalang matapat magmamahal.

>>simulposted on jdizzler.blogspot.com<<

it is for her that i write

it is for her that i write
the sweetest songs that i could ever make
for her that i say “she moves my heart…”
or “makes me smile and sends my worries away”

that even under the silent lilac sky
or the rugged stormy nights
when nature sings her loudest tunes
the voice of my heart goes on and on

it is for her that i write
the sweetest songs that i could ever sing
sometimes i fall into the melody of her voice
like a shooting star caressing the sky
or a bird freely gliding with the wind
bringing the sound of spring
i sing of her beauty to the world

and when i close my eyes to sleep
it is her face i see, and my voice that i hear
the sweetest songs i could ever sing
for the sweetest thing that ever happened to me.