I guess it’s safe to say that you don’t know me, and you probably never will.
And I can honestly say that I don’t know you. I wish I do. I want to know you. I want to hear the deepest set goals of your heart, and be there with you while you achieve it. I want to feel your pain every moment I catch your eyes in sorrow. I want to laugh with you, and see you smile first thing in the morning. I want to be the reason why you’re happy. I want to know what you’re afraid of, and be with you while you fear, find courage in me, with me. I want to spend my days with you and travel the world while I hold your hand. I will not demand anything from you unless your eyes beg for it. I want you. And I want you to want me too.
But that seems impossible. You don’t know me. You only see me in my dreams, in the pictures I paint in my mind. The pictures of you and me that whenever I see, I can’t help but hope that one day it will work out between us. You know, I wish I could tell you every word my heart is longing for you to hear. I guess I am that fearful. I am so afraid of you. I am so scared to lose you when I don’t even have you. Maybe one day, I will. But until then, I will wait no matter how long it’ll take just to know that I will have you… if I will have you.
For now, you don’t see me, and I have to live with it even if I am in love with you.
You’ve been haunting me for days since the night you appeared in my dream. It was supposed to be really nothing, but the dream was so real. I saw you in your complete form, I heard your voice too clearly, and I absolutely, entirely felt your presence. It was really you. It was very you, and it is sick. I gradually woke up, little by little realizing that it was not real. Little by little trying to accept that indeed, you’re just an amazing creation of my subconscious mind. And at one point finally, I understood the entirety of the false hope of having you back.
Do I really want you back? Did I even ever have you? No.
But, I felt you in my damn heart — again. All the feelings I had for you that I thought I had overly forgotten just reappeared too abruptly. It is as if it was just there all along, but maybe I was trying to ignore it. Or maybe because I thought it’s not about you anymore. You were the last one.
And, what about you?
You’ve been making me happy for the past months. And just like before, you know nothing about this. This is where I’m good at — secretly admiring a person without realizing that I am actually gradually falling in love.
Love? I might not be there with you, yet. But I think of you for more than half of my day, everyday. I like you too much that I am starting to see myself with you, and forcefully believing the beautiful lies my mind creates. Thinking about these fake memories of us brings pleasure to my semi-non existent life. I will still see your face if I go blind, even if to you, I am invisible. You make me wonder, what is it about you?
You showed up in front of me today, and I was looking at you so intently — observing how you talk, how you blink, and how you breathe, but I didn’t get the feeling I used to have when I was so deeply obsessed with you. The last one appeared in my dream, and for two nights in a row, I am kept wide awake until dawn. This is driving me insane. The feeling of trying to move on over and over again from someone I never really had. Never will have.
May mga araw na sobrang busy ko sa pagiisip na ayaw ko nang magisip. Kakaisip ko na ayoko, napapaisip ako lalo. Hindi ko mapigilan, kahit gusto ko nang mawala yung naiisip ko na yun. Wala ako maintindihan.
Nakakaloka dahil isip ako ng isip kahit na ni minsan, hindi naman talaga to dumating sa buhay ko. Parang tanga lang, nagiisip at umaasa ng darating, babalik, kahit wala naman dapat balikan dahil wala naman talaga sinimulan.
Paano ba balikan ang hindi mo pinanggalingan?
Gusto ko tuloy na mawala na lang bigla. Hindi mawala sa mundong to, kundi yung basta na lang mag disappear kahit saglit lang. Gusto ko maligaw sa lugar na wala akong alam kung sino o ano ang mga pumapaligid sakin. Parang isang alien sa isang kakaibang mundo. Gusto ko hulihin ako ng mga tinatawag na tao, pag-aralan ako, kalikutin ang katawan, utak, at lahat ng lamang-loob ko… Baka pag nalaman nila kung sino at ano ako, malaman ko rin at maintindihan ko ang sarili ko…yun ay kung buhay pa ko.
Inabot sa akin ang salamin at tinanong ako kung ano ang nakita ko. Nahirapan ako sagutin, dahil wala akong makita. May imahe pero walang malinaw na porma. Sino nga ba ang dapat kong makita sa harap ng salamin?
Sa ganitong panahon na hindi ko alam kung ano ang meron bukas, di ko maiwasang itanong sa sarili ko kung ano nga ba ang plano ko. Teka. Sa totoo lang, hindi ko naman tatanungin ang sarili ko kung walang ibang tao ang nagtanong. Siguro, nasanay lang ako sa buhay na walang maayos na plano. Pero ngayon na magulo at nakalilito, napaisip ako, kung sino nga ba ako para bukas. E sino nga ba ang mortal na nakakaalam ng bukas?
Ngayon, nakaharap ako sa isang salamin, pero wala ako makitang reflection. Kahit anong punas, kahit gaano ko pa pakintabin, wala pa ring pagbabago. Pwede siguro na basagin ko na lang ito, baka makita ko ang sarili ko sa wasak wasak na piraso ng salaming binasag ko.
I close my eyes, and let my fingers move. I am not sure if what I am writing is aligned. Maybe words overlap, I don’t know. My eyes are close so I can see you clear. With music of happiness to my ears, I try to find you. My heart pounds as I feel you. Tears are starting to build up for I am happy, I am thankful. One moment of everyday, I will close my eyes, find you, and write with candour. Let my fingers speak for my heart with eyes closed so I can see clearly. And so I may declare, I am happy. I am thankful.
You stare at the cover of the book, trying to imagine the atmosphere. It took a while before you finally flipped the cover to the first page of the first chapter. And by the time you reached chapter two, you are already hooked. You can’t close your eyes even if you are too dang tired. You prefer being a zombie in the morning, just so you could be the characters’ imaginary friend at least for the night.
This happens to me every single time I encounter a really good book. And by good, I mean emotionally catchy. It is when you first came across the main character and you already know you are interested in him. And when you heard him speak for the very first time (even if you are just reading), you smile for some reasons you are not sure of. Sometimes, you are reminded of someone you know in real world. But most of the times, you just enjoy being around him, seeing him, hearing him, feeling him, even if in the other way around, you are nowhere in his life.
You think that no one can relate to your being hurt ending a naturally good book. Knowing the characters will no longer be with you pains your heart as if they actually do mean a lot in your life. It is as if you actually really met them. It’s sad. You just sit there sadly for a moment, or a day, or weeks, wishing it didn’t end too soon. You sometimes wish that it doesn’t end at all.
Right now, that’s what I’m feeling. I am so utterly sad, teary-eyed listening to the song I somewhat imagined as its soundtrack.
It’s the third day now. And I can’t start reading any other from my list of unread books.
I can’t start because I still can’t move on from the enormous happiness I had from the previous I’ve read, and the uber sadness that replaced it while slowly reading its last page. I still imagine pictures of the main characters. I am trying to write its second book, its third book… writing them in my mind. I still long to hear their names. It is as if I’ve spent much of my time with them, when in fact I only have read about them for a couple of hours combined.
Oh how I wish I didn’t finish the book too soon. Maybe one page a day, so I’ll get to have 382 days with them.
Okay, sa lahat naman ng pwedeng mabunggo bakit yung mataba pa? And no, hindi ako nagrereklamo dahil tumalsik ako pagkabunggo nya sakin…. kundi dahil yung matabang nakabungguan ko, e basang basa pa ng pawis…..
Ramdam na ramdam ko ang init na nararamdaman nya, at ang tagaktak ng pawis nya e napahid sa braso ko.
Buong araw kong iniwasan na pagpawisan.. Nagtaxi ako dahil coding ngayon. Ni hindi ako lumabas for lunch dahil sobra ang tirik ng araw.
Oo inaamin ko, ayaw na ayaw ko nang pinapagpawisan. Ayoko unless nasa bundok ako… sa beach… Nag te-trek, nagpapa-tan, or nagke-caving. Ayoko pinapawisan sa Metro Manila dahil mausok, maalikabok, nakakasipon… Hindi ako nag co-commute dahil sumasakit ulo ko pag naiinitan. Di ako mahilig sa sports dahil ayoko ng pawis… Kaya swimming lang ang nagustuhan ko, atleast pagpawisan man ako, hindi ko ramdam dahil malamig….
Pero nitong paguwi ko galing opisina, naglakad ako at nabunggo ang isang matabang babaeng pawis na pawis. Bakit naman sa lahat e sya pa? Pwede naman yung taong grasang tuyo. Mas okay pa yun sakin dahil atleast hindi basa. Hindi maputik sa pakiramdam… Hindi ko maipinta ang reaksyon ko nung nagkabungguan kami… Para akong dinukutan, napahimutok ako.
Okay, alam ko walang kwenta to. Pero grabe lang talaga, ayoko ng pawis…lalo na kung pawis ng iba!!!!
Sometimes I wonder why I’m at where am at now. Sometimes I question how I am doing what I wish I am doing. Most of the times, if not always, the wonders and questions I have remain as wonders and questions, yet still I do.
I just need one day. One day to finally decide to start, to find the courage to go away.
Be far away to feed my brain and emotions, to satisfy my weird cravings of being gone. Not completely, not finally; just disappear.
Limang taon nang nakalilipas nang una kong tinanong kung paano sumigaw ng pabulong… Hindi ito tanong ng pang tanga, hindi joke para maghintay ng malupit na punchline, at hindi rin ito kapareho ng tanong kung paano bumulong ng pasigaw.
Mga ilang linggo nang nakararaan ng nagpabalot ako ng regalo sa mall, nakikinig sa usapan ng mga empleyado. Tinanong ng babae sa katrabaho ang eksaktong tanong ko noon. Hindi nila masagot, at hindi rin nila makuha ang tanong. Hindi rin kasi alam nung babae ang gusto nyang sagot. Hindi ko rin alam pero sigurado ako na ang sigaw na tinutukoy ko ay iba sa sigaw na tinutukoy nya. Tinatanong nya ang tanong dahil gusto nya malaman, hindi dahil gusto nya maramdaman. Tinatanong nya habang tumatawa, naghihintay ng sagot mula sa mga bibig na nag ngingisian.
Ngayon, tanong ko ulit… Paano sumigaw ng pabulong? Paano magalit kung wala ka namang karapatang magalit? Gusto mo manapak pero mali , dahil hindi mo pwedeng sabihin kung bakit, kung anong dahilan. Magmumuka ka lang tanga, walang rason kahit meron naman. Paano mo isisigaw kung hindi mo naman pwede ipaalam sa iba. Walang karapatan… Kahit anong pilit isigaw, walang boses ang dapat marinig… Mahirap, mabigat… Gusto mong sumigaw, pero bulong lamang ang pwede mong gawin.
Dapat bang kalimutan? Ipawalang bahala? Ibulong na lamang, at wag na isigaw? Dapat bang kalimutan ang dahilan, o kalimutan ang karapatan? Yan ang tanong ko limang taon nang nakalilipas na magpahanggang ngayon ay wala pa ring kasagutan.
There is something wrong with my little left pinky finger… It aches whenever I press something with it even with the tiniest effort. I don’t know why it seems bruised, but pressing 'shift' or ‘ctrl’ is the only thing I use it for.
Really? Then, it made me think…. What’s the use of my pinky aside from that? hmmm
inigyan ako ng mga larawan na kinunan sa Banaue. Di ko sinasadyang titigan ang mga ‘to, pero hindi kayang pigilan ng mga mata ko.
Ang sarap nila tingnan… Berdeng taniman, asul na kalangitan.
Tila ba aking naramdaman ang hangin at naamoy ang simoy nito. Ang sarap. Pero sa bawat kisap ng mata ko, nawawala yung pakiramdam na yun—bumabalik ako sa aking silya, kaharap ang computer sa loob ng isang silid na malamig pero hindi nagbibigay ginaw.
Ngayon ay gusto kong tumakbo at lumipad. Walang pakialam sa kung sinong mababangga o masisipa. Gusto ko, pero di ko magawa.
Gusto ko magpunta sa malayong probinsya sa Pilipinas kung saan hindi tagalog ang gamit na wika. Gusto kong mapadpad sa kawalan, makipag-kaibigan sa sanlibutan ng ibang mundo.
Sino ba ang dapat ko lapitan? Ano ba ang dapat kong gawin para makaalis sa silid na malamig?
When you wake up early, do not open your computer. It is the best means of distraction.
While you take your shower, do not listen to music. If you listen to slow-paced music, you move slowly. If you listen to fast-paced music, you might end up dancing, forgetting the time.
Put down your phone, turn it off or put it on silent mode. Do you hate it when you want to move as fast as you can, but your cellphone keeps ringing? Argh, I hate that as much as I hate the sitting Philippine President. Anyway, it’s not nice texting while you are in a hurry. Believe me, you will end up sending hate (or sometimes intimate) messages to your mom.
Memorize where your lips, cheeks, and eyes are. If you will, you may be able to apply makeup even while you are walking, or in a car.
When walking in a very busy street, walk fast, raise your eyebrow, and frown as if you hate the world. If you are walking this way while hundreds of people are walking opposite you, trust me, people will split in two groups as you walk in their middle.
Only quite a few can relate to me about how I feel when I listen to music. All the more, most of these people are people I don’t know. These are the people I see online commenting on Youtube videos, lyrics site, music sites, etc. We don’t even talk, but I can relate to them as well.
I don’t sing, nor do I play any music instrument, but I love music more than anyone I know. I listen to any kind of music, and I love them.
When I listen to music, I feel like being transported to a place like chalk and cheese. I feel deserted, and even if so, it feels good. Often times, with my headphones on, you will see me with teary eyes. Sometimes, I could not help tears from falling down my eyes. I am not emotionally under chaos, but sometimes, it’s like I have a relationship ending, or a family that’s breaking even when I really have none.
Sometimes, I cry because the goodness of a song is worth my tears. Some songs are just so brilliantly made; I admire how genius the writer or composer is, or how emotional and real the artist is. I like my music loud, just so I can hear the individuality of each vocals and chords. I see the emotion and passion of the hearts of the artist when I listen to their own eccentricity.
When I listen to music, I close my eyes and see more than what I can see when I have them open. And everything I see may be sad, happy, extreme, chaotic, fly…. But regardless of these being good or bad, I still do love what I see, and what I feel when I see them.
One day I was crying, listening to Mayday Parade’s Save Your Heart, my dad saw me and asked why. I told him it’s because of how good the song is, and when he heard it, he laughed at me. Other times I listen to Ghinzu’s The Dragster Wave, and I feel so high, with eyes closed, and hand up high, feeling like watching a concert, my friend called me crazy. I can’t help it. Music is full of emotions, and I think it is just in my nature to pick up the emotions of the song and the artist singing or playing.
I feel a little heartache listening to Tori Amos’ A Sorta Fairytale, Keane’s We Might as Well Be Strangers, Katy Perry’s I’m Still Breathing, Finger Eleven’s I’ll Keep Your Memory Vague, and a lot more. I feel in love with Kevin Rudolf’s Love Letter, The After’s Beautiful Love, Lifehouse’ Blind, Howie Day’s Collide, etc. There are songs that make me gloomy like Radiohead’s Street Spirit, Good Charlotte’s Emotionless, Kerli’s Scar Tissue, 30 Seconds to Mars’ Alibi etc. Songs like Simple Plan’s Jet Lag, Circa’s Hintay, Katy Perry’s The One That Got Away and a lot more make me feel desperate.
There are many songs to mention and I could go over and over, but then I won’t be able to stop writing. Now, I am listening to Vega 4’s Life is Beautiful, so I better stop writing and feel the song.
So if you see me with my iPod on, bear with me, I am poles apart when I listen to music.