I had my right hand extended, waiting for you to shake it. You stared at it for so long, hesitant for reasons not known. Maybe my hand was dirty, maybe yours was regal. Maybe you just didn’t want to, or maybe you refused to know who I am.
You stared at it for a little bit more and I waited.
You stared at it for a little bit and a little bit… until I lost every ounce of the very little patience I had. There was no hand for mine to shake so I just stared at you for the last time.
I am sitting, watching each trailer the cinema chooses to show. Everything seems lovely, thrilling, and divine, it makes me want to eagerly see them all. So here I am… longing, and silently whispering to myself, “I want that, I want that” as I wait for the movie to begin.
I have been sitting alone for so long, watching each trailer of the movies I wish to see. Movies that are just like life, showcased in many different genres. And while I watch trailers of other people’s lives — some of them romantic, I whisper to myself, “I want that, I want that” as I wait for mine to begin.
Then, there is yours. It isn’t as exciting as what others have, but it is mysteriously good. And as I watch yours over and over, it becomes more than just lovely, thrilling, and divine. So I am sitting here, watching and whispering, “I want that, I want you”, silently wishing ours would begin.
Hindi fair eh… maraming tao na literal gumuguho ang mundo ngayon at lahat ng rason sa mundo para magalit sa buhay, nasa kanila na. Wala naman akong ganun. Wala akong problemang pino-problema… yun yung problema ko. Wala akong karapatan malungkot dahil walang nakakalungkot.
Hindi naman ako humihiling na magka-cancer ako, o mamatay isa-isa ang mga mahal ko sa buhay. Ayokong masunugan ng bahay, o randomly mabaril sa kalsada pero di naman napuruhan… Kaya lang, wala akong rason para mawalan ng gana sa buhay kaya ako walang gana. Kaya ako nalulungkot…
Ang nakakainis kasi, hindi naman requirement ang problema para maging malungkot… Minsan, talagang yun lang ang mood na available. Wala lang talagang laman… wala lang mahanap na lalim. At dahil wala akong maibigay na rason, hindi ko ma-justify yung kalungkutan ko kaya mas lalong nagiging malungkot.
Sa totoo lang, kapag hindi ganito ang mood ko… tinatawanan ko yung ganitong klase ng mood. Natatawa ako sa tuwing nababasa ko ulit yung mga ganito… pero wala eh… ito ang mood ko ngayon. Gusto ko lang isulat, dahil parang wala namang tamang gawin. Nakatunganga. Nakatitig sa kung saan habang mabilis na gumagana yung utak. Nonstop. Kahit may kumakausap sakin, walang gana sumagot yung bibig ko, pero yung utak ko, nobela na ang nasabi kahit walang nakakarinig.
Walang tama. Walang kwenta. Walang gana.
At least, sa pagsusulat kong ‘to, may tatawanan ako sa susunod na araw, pag nawala na ‘tong mood na ganito.
Sa isang simpleng gathering kita unang nakita… Nagmamadali ako umalis non dahil may iba pa kong lakad. Pero gustong gusto ko pabagalin ang oras dahil hindi sapat ang ka-kaunting minuto para magnakaw ng tingin sayo. Ilang beses ka binalikan ng mga mata ko, parang naninigurado na nandyan ka nga talaga.
Uminom ako ng dalawang baso ng red wine bago kita nalapitan. Isang shakehands lang, tapos hello at bye. Nainis ako sa sarili ko dahil kung wala sana akong ibang lakad, sana nakapag-stay pa ko.
Ang ganda ng presensya mo sa paningin ko. Kahit gaano kalakas ang ulan sa tanghali, parang nagkakaroon ng rainbow pag dumadaan ka na. Nakakatawa yung dating mo sakin, para kang dark coffee… nagpa-palpitate ako sayo.
Tapos ayun, naging kaibigan ka ng mga kaibigan ko, at lumabas tayo ng ilang beses. Tama yung unang nakita ng mata ko — yung tipo ng mukha mo ang gusto ko makita paggising ko. Ginusto kita, pero hanggang dun lang yun. Gusto lang naman kita eh. Buti na lang hanggang gusto lang.
Ngayon, meron ulit gathering tulad nung una kita nakita… at ngayon ang huling araw mo. Uminom ako ng isang lata ng redhorse saka ka nilapitan. Isang shakehands, tapos hello at bye. Ending ng kahibangan ko.
The loud howl of your wind bringing moans piercing in my ears is worsened by your deafening thunders commanding me to give up; to succumb to your power and strength that’s underscored in every blinding lightning striking mid-air.
You are strong — one I am fearful to face, like a deadly tornado building rapidly in sight. And even if you choose to be calmer at times, almost not felt — your mere presence, knowing that you are there makes me nervous.
But against all these odds, I still want your rains to fall, because your absence makes me numb to the comforts and discomforts of sunny days. I do not mind sharing your troubles. You make a lot of people nervous and numb, but you seem not to care. You just thoughtlessly show your face of dark clouds in the sky, grinning at every dreadful heads looking up to you.
You give me a lot of reasons to hate you. You give me pain, but pain that I’m willing to suffer from. The scent of the moisture you bring, like the smell of fresh cut grass, gives me feelings my vocabulary cannot describe. Your heavy rainfall hinders me from doing a lot of things, worries me, stops me from thinking of anything else but you. And after moving over water, you landfall in the most unlikely area, flooding the entirety of my body, heart, and mind.
But just like any other storms, you would leave, never to come back. I will be left alone to pick up the pieces you destroyed, questioning every reason why I survived.
Today at the park, I saw a little girl seated at a swing set alone. That was the first time I saw her.
There were many other kids playing with each other, having fun like they should be. But she chose to be by herself as I watch her from afar. She would constantly look up in the sky, as if she’s awaiting answers only heaven could provide.
It’s been half an hour. There was sweet abandon daubed in her face, and the heavens desired to blend. The sun hid, and the dark clouds took over the skies. Again, the little girl looked up and stared astonished. While all the other kids, dripping with sweat, ran away to avoid the coming rain, she stood up untouched with a face that’s wet from small raindrops.
For once, I saw her smile as if the rain was the answer to what she was awaiting heaven to provide. She danced in the rain. Her face that was once a picture of sweet abandon was washed away into innocence. I knew she was happy.
I walked home with questions in my head. As to why she waits for the rain is unclear to me, but that doesn’t really matter. Some kids may hate or fear it, but she chose not to. What others fear was her source of happiness.
When I reached home, I looked at myself in the mirror, and I saw the little girl the second time.
the night is dark the music played we stood still we’re both afraid but this is all we got this timing we barely had now is all I ask don’t pull away, don’t pull away as we dream tonight
come closer, come here look me in the eye is it not clear that this is not a lie don’t pull away not soon, not now now is the day our bodies allow dear, your sweet smile and your eyes that glow the tender snuggles, the hands in chest the hands so eager to undress I can get drunk in the taste of your tongue I’ll drown in you, I’ll be forever young
your soft little voice that makes me high telling me to push my hand against your thigh no, don’t stop don’t pull away, you’re mine tonight
push your lips against mine as I travel through your soul the passion in every gasp thrilled to reach the hole We are entwined I am enthralled your pounding breath caresses my neck the power in our fingertips stroking each others lips hypnotic are your screams that echo in my ears don’t pull away, don’t pull away just erase all fears
the night is so dark that we even barely see the next day the dogs will bark will we remember how we’re free? I love you yes I do I love you, that’s what I feel a love that’s true but can’t be real
tonight is all we got the timing that once we had none secures, but it’ll be fine so don’t pull away, for once, you’re mine.
Like an orchid hanging in a small and empty room, with no water to absorb, and no fresh air to breathe, I am left alone. The seedlings you planted but refused to watch to grow; once, they bloom into beautiful flowering plants, but now they struggle to be alive. The greenhouse is gone. And all that’s left is weed that you only see when getting high seems like a need.
The sadness I feel fuels my engine to write about things I’m unable to tell you. And this is what I want to tell you…
I hate you. I hate how you make me hopeful by the things you say to me and take them back as if everything could be back to normal with one undo. I hate how I love to be hurt when someone surrounds you. I hate how I rejoice in pain when it seems like to you, I don’t matter. Even if I am just someone who passes by, I still delight in your presence. I hate how you show up for one day, and disappear whenever you wish. I hate it all the more how I still wait for you to show up, even if I know that you’ll disappear yet again. And I hate how even if I am ignored by you many times over, I still can’t hate you because I don’t have you.
I want you. I want to touch your hair and feel its smoothness in my hand. I want to look into your eyes for a bit long because I’ve never looked at you for more than a second. I am scared of the sight of you looking away telling me that I’m unseen. I want to wrap you in my arms and feel the warmth of your body which I deeply long for. I want to breathe the air you breathe, and feel the same breeze amidst the same smog. I want to listen to you when you’re not even speaking, and hear what only I could hear. I want my lips to gently touch yours and ignore the world for at least once.
I love you. I love how I feel like bullshit to you. I love how I remember completely the look on your face when you’re smiling even if I know that I’m not the reason behind it. I love how I tell myself that I won’t like you and end up liking you more. I love the bullshits you write and the bullshits you say, no matter how wickedly bullshit these are to me. I love how you’ve given me too many bullshits for me not to fall in love. But I already am in love with you, I love your bullshits anyhow.
I hate how I want to tell you that I love you… and I hate that I can’t.
I am still waiting for the day that I don’t hate myself for not telling you so because I did.
But at the moment, I’ll just write hoping one day I am read.
I guess this is how it will work for me. And this is the bullshit I won’t understand.