jueves, febrero 18, 2010

nostalgic dreadfulness

no. i will not. those crazy thoughts. what are they really? think again. you are a hoarder of memories. stop it.

weak. no, you are a flake. you want it back because someone else has it. what will you do if you get what you think is still yours?

remember that dream? where he got you tickets for a rocket ship across the universe. see those stars in your head now? galactic dust gathering at your wake.

let's talk about beer for a moment, ok? that trappist beer in Belgium. the chimay. sweet and fruity aroma with a hint of pepper. and did you hear about the chimay dorée, a patersbier- meant only to be drunk within the monastery walls.

those memories of yours are patersbiers. it violates a certain code of decorum- ethics even, i think; integrity at least- when you bring them out into the open. there are just things that are meant to be confined. in your case- tucked away in that corner of your brain where ice cream melted under the sun memories are kept, perhaps material for some future literary shit you'd manage to leave trailing at your wake. maybe.

are you ok now? good.

lunes, febrero 08, 2010

30

let's see:
  • move out and live on my own: check
  • swim in Mt. Pinatubo's crater lake: check
  • drive and own a car: check
  • head my own department: check
  • wish in a temple in angkor wat: check
everything in my tick off list for my 20's seem childish to me now. i was thinking those were the things i needed to do to prove i knew how to truly live an emancipated life. but now, it seems like i've reached the top of something and i'm looking at a whole new geography- an era that will decide where i'd be at the end of my life and who would be there with me. and on the other side of this top view perspective- i see my past. a past i'm glad to leave behind. realities that are hazy at their best that only certain feelings remain. feelings that used to be details and real people, speech, touch, scents, kisses, colors - a different universe.

who was i in the previous decade of my life? and who would i want to be in the next? i could perhaps remember to be anything i want and everything i want to become at this point.

jueves, octubre 15, 2009

find yourself wondering at the end of things

the bad end of goodbye finds you sitting in your corner of the world still wondering what has happened. if there ever was any reason to believe it was love to begin with. or if you were a fool to take it and sit there as the world passed you by. do you tell him then you still love him and those other things he doesn't want to hear anymore. do you still believe in kindness at the end of things?

miércoles, septiembre 16, 2009

boogie woogie and elves on half skirts

Coffee. 3rd cup. Still sleepy. Let’s do the boogie woogie. And turn it all around. Or twirl- if you feel like being a girly girl.

How’s it again?

Boogie woogie. Pointy toes. Pointy hats. Pointy noses. Pointy ears. North. South. East. West.

There’s a point here somewhere.

Somewhere where elves run around in half skirts and full beards.

Now. Not when. Or how. The question begs an answer. Not another question. So I ask, is it someday or soon? You, say, NOW!

And do the boogie woogie and turn things around. Do the woogie boogie and twirl all the girls around.

Around the world. Around the world. What’s that? You ask if it’s true. I say, yes. Yes if it is NOW. Now. Now. Now.

Pick up your skirts little elves. Run and twirl in the wind. Your full beards float after you. Like a cloud of smoke. Like the smokes you’ve quit on a whim. Just like how it begun- on a whim, didn’t it?

Do the boogie woogie. And turn around. Point to yourself. Point to me. Say NOW. The world around. There’s only you and me and the little elves that dance ‘round and ‘round. Boogie woogie. Oh the coffee! The coffee too!


viernes, agosto 21, 2009

too giddy

i'm too giddy right now to write anything decent. i don't know but i'm really just like this. when i'm too giddy, i mean. i'm scared maybe i'll just write cheesy stuff that stink worse than blue cheese. which by the way smells like foot- that sweated too much. but still tastes great. the cheese i mean.

lunes, marzo 09, 2009

taking on the darjeeling dare

mahal,

Until last week, I did not see myself running after that proverbial train. I simply didn’t care. So many have passed me by already and have left me believing people always leave. That there is no forever. Not for me.

Then you came. I’ve started wondering maybe I have been wrong. Maybe I just didn’t understand how this whole thing- this fate, love, commitment mixture works.

I am unsure about catching the train. I have never committed to anyone. Had no one commit to me. I still can’t see my future because my future is full of curbs and blindspots- the way I want it. I avoid the long straight line- of knowing precisely what comes next. Of being too sure. Of finding the one now. Now when I only know two things to do when made to choose: fight or flight.

My friends say I wear my heart on my sleeve. That I put too much of my heart out there. But I have not really given much to anyone. I have never lost myself. I may have loved freely but I have never let anyone pierce through me so much so that I would fear losing out on things while I go about my ways- of not having kids (because will I really find a man who wouldn’t want to have a child in his likeness?); of dying (what kind of person in love would wish misery on someone who has his life latched unto hers?); of being whimsical (who wouldn’t want consistency in a relationship?). I am a slave to both my ego and id. Even with you now, I am still me.

But unlike you, I am not afraid of the what ifs. What if we grow too comfortable? What if we run out of interesting things to say to each other. What if this is just mere attraction – of finding a kindred soul at this turn in our lives. What if I’m not the one. What if there’s no such thing as the ‘one’. What if there’s no such thing as the ‘one’ for me or you.

I am taking you on your condition: to speak up when this thing gets too much to handle or falls below expectations.

I need to believe first that the train is worth catching.

Because I’m running without any baggage. And I see you still have yours. But like I told you. As long as you hold my hand, I won’t let go.

We can catch the train or we can stop running after it. Plop down on the grass and enjoy the view of the here and the now. and not care if it takes us a hundred years forever wondering what comes next.

Because the future doesn’t matter to me as much as the hand that holds mine now.

I told you I am not simple. I am not low maintenance. I want more from life. I need to feel that you are drowning in me. Overwhelmed by me. Consumed by me. I just can’t have it otherwise.

Your turn. Fight or flight?

miércoles, enero 28, 2009

everything fades

i tell them not to worry. everything fades with me.

it comes faster than you think. ask mellon. ask ian. ask pan. ask eli. ask jig. ask moi. ask savvy. ask jan. ask troy.

only one says it's taking forever. and even him can't keep me.

we are only here for a moment.

and even time can't have me.

i'm counting down the days till you are here. i'm counting down the days till i fade for you.