Endless Line

Bago Mag Pasko

Bago mag pasko, gusto ko lang sabihin na namimis ko na ang

1. sleepovers sa Tandang Sora kasama ang barkadang ito

 

Tuesday Night

I'm not really sure what you're doing. I don't know why you're suddenly talking to me when we practically haven't had any communication since... I don't know because I stopped caring after that life-changing ride back home seven months ago. I don't know why it's suddenly so urgent for us to see each other again... no, why it's suddenly so urgent for you to see me again, because I don't need or want to see you.

I don't know why you're telling me things like that. Your choice of words... they annoy me. They might have been amusing before, but they just sound lame now. It's just a shame that you're still able to stir some (a very little amount, really) emotion in me.

I hate the fact that you told me that you would wait, even if I bluntly told you that there was nothing that could change my mind. I hate the fact that you still think you matter to me enough to put me in a position where I would do what you ask me to, even if I had told you that while you may not have changed, I did. Most of all I hate the fact that I still felt a piercing feeling in my chest when you told me that you miss me and all I answered was "Haha."

But by now the one thing that makes me happy is that I know that I've stopped caring. About you, about us. You asked me to be there for you a dozen times, and I told you that I won't a dozen times as well. You told me that you would wait, and I told you that you would be waiting for nothing. You told me that you miss me, and I told you "Haha"; there wasn't even a smiley.

So go ahead, do what you want to do and say what you want to say. And while you're at it, rip my heart out from its veins with your sweet words, and with your selfishness watch it bleed, defiled by the grime of your artful hands, with insensitive pleasure and egotistic glee until its last beat. Cause you know what?

It's all the same to me.

Dirky Kitchen

Love Love Love

Over the past week, my friends Gboi, Lawi and Shara Banana have told me more than once that I no longer update my blog. Well, Gboi is still riding his shit wave, Lawi is still proclaiming his undying love for Mortred the Phantom Assassin, Shara is still in search of her friends’ lost blogs and I… I am busy trying to reprogram my mind to refrain from doing anything related to professing my obsession with Solis because as if Max in the hallway was not enough, there seems to be someone who knows Solis in almost all of my non-Econ classes. Weeee.

I haven’t really been inspired to write anything that can be considered decent lately, hence my not-so-satisfactory CW 10 grade, but hey, for all that this is worth, this goes out to you, my friends, for continuing to drop by my forsaken blog in the hopes of finding a miraculous update despite the fact that I haven’t been active since August. Hopefully I’ll be back soon.

***

There are many things that could be said about how and why it happens. I was drunk, I was lonely, I got carried away… and the most cliché of all, it just happened. And somewhere around Mt. Olympus, Eros cringes because you rarely hear the reason that his existence is for.

Alcohol, check. Not the Chivas’ or Remy’s displayed at home, nor the spirits distributed by Daddy’s distiller clients. There’s an almost empty bottle of vodka on the bedside table, next to an equally almost empty bottle of tonic and two shot glasses. It takes around ten minutes for the human tongue to learn the palatability of vodka tonic, fewer if you’re like her who easily gets drunk (in which case you will readily swallow anything that can be shoved into your mouth). Hey, in Econ VAT means value added tax, everywhere else it means vodka and tonic.

Oh, Dan Hardy. She would fuck you for the mere reason that the second X on your straight edge tattoo means ‘no alcohol’.

Loneliness, check. A friend once said that the people you miss aren’t the people you think of when you’re alone – it’s who you think of even when you’re happy with a crowd. It’s been five years and there’s been many other people, but the truth is that there had been nobody quite like him, or the way he made her feel. If she could, she would actually turn back time so she could do things differently. When Benjo asks them, “Kayo ba?” she would not deny it; When Lance tells them to try to work it out, she would listen; and when he… when Carlo tells her “I love you”, she would not pretend that she did not hear him. She might even say something back.

 Maybe things would turn up differently. And maybe she wouldn’t be lonely.

Emotional overwhelm, check. Because a fingertip gently pressed to the lips can do more than silencing someone who speaks. (Especially when the fingertip is yours but the lips are not.) It was recently learned that a fingertip to the lips can close eyes and ease breathing too. It just has to be mentioned that it’s most effective when it’s the eyes and not the lips that was doing the talking for the person in the first place. It might just be the best way to get acquiescence, and when you have acquiescence, you can proceed with everything else. 

Who said you need a grappling background to elicit a submission?

It just happened, check. That’s what we all say when we can’t or don’t want to explain why certain things happened.

It’s just seldom the truth.

And love?

Frankly, she couldn’t care less if there was love or not. When she woke up the next morning the sheets were all messed up and clothes were strewn all over the floor and the smell of alcohol was retching in the air and the headache – god, the headache – it was terrible. (Must have been what they called a hangover.) There might have been some feelings of guilt or regret (Okay, so she did at least wanted to be in love) but it was hard to tell because the feelings of soreness and nausea were all that she could recognize.

But she was not alone and there was nobody saying “You know it’s casual and we’re still friends, right?” She just sees a faint smile and hears a somnolent, half-asleep voice from the other half of the mattress advising her to go back to bed because going to school with a hangover was not happening.

She laughs softly (making a mental note to herself never to get drunk during weekdays again) before closing her eyes and letting herself fall back to the pillows.

Today, just today, nobody needs love.

Fast Car

Ode to Victor

“Cut the BS, Nicdao. You do not care about Demian Maia’s technicality, or his classiness, or his athleticism or his lack thereof. You like him because he qualifies for your definition of ‘hot’.”

o_O?

If I could lie as easily as I churn out reaction papers, I would deny it. Unfortunately, I’m not a good liar.

Uh-oh, looks like somebody knows me really well. ^_^

Ambula

Me: Does it make me a bad person if I feel defensive when people comment on the things I write?

Kuya Rex: Haha, what do you think?

I guess it’s human nature. Everybody wants to be praised, but nobody wants to be criticized.

So me, I’m just going to try my damnedest to rise above my human frailties. I will take in everything with humble modesty that will spit graciously on the face of condescension. I will feast on approval leisurely and savor every moment of it; I will chew rebuke determinedly until it’s tender enough to swallow.

***

Kase sa totoo lang, ang tagal-tagal ko ‘tong hinihintay.

Pero bakit ngayong nandito na, parang hindi naman ako masaya?

…siguro kase dapat pag nag-let go ka na, hindi mo man lang dapat isipin na balikan pa.


***

Guess who Jan invited to lunch at Manila Pen next week.

ako, alas dos ng madaling araw

ito ako, alas dos ng madaling araw.
naglinis ng mga gamit
itinago ang mga lumang kwaderno,
isinilid sa kahon ang mga lumang babasahin,
itinapon ang bago pang kard
na may mensaheng “keep this…” at pirmado pa;
dahil hindi ko na gagamitin
ang alin man sa mga basurang iyan.

ito ako, alas dos ng madaling araw;
nahimlay sa kama at ipinikit ang mata
ngunit hindi makatulog.
mula sa paanan ng kama, naririnig ang mga basura
sa basurahan daw ay hindi sila nababagay, di dapat naroroon.
ngunit hindi ba kaya may ngalang‘basurahan’
ay dahil doon inilalagay ang mga basura?

ito ako, alas dos ng madaling araw -
nakatitig ang mga mata sa kisame ng kwarto
ginugulo ng mga basurang hindi daw bagay sa basurahan.
kung nangyari ito tatlong buwang mas maaga,
pupulutin ko ang mga basurang iyon at muling itatago -
mali, ni hindi ko pala sila itatapon -
ngunit ang ‘tatlong buwang mas maaga’ ay hindi ngayon,
at dahil ngayon ito nangyari,
wala akong basurang pupulutin.

ito ako, alas dos ng madaling araw.
ibabaling ang ulo sa kaliwa
at tatakpan ng unan ang mukha.
hindi parin makatulog,
pero pipiliting pagpahingahin ang diwa.
bahala sila. basta ako,
wala akong pakialam sa basura.

Staccato

She caught your name when you wrote it down on a piece of paper this afternoon.

She doesn’t even know why she had to bother to look at it. If she wanted to know your name she could have just asked her seatmate. Yeah, her seatmate knows you. Everyone in this college seems to know you.

Then again, maybe it’s because if she did ask her seatmate, that nosy boy might ask why she wanted to know your name.

And then she wouldn’t know what to say.

***

She caught a glimpse of you nibbling your fingers as you listened to the professor who kept rambling about some political shit.

In her mind she muttered a profanity because you reminded her of someone that she shouldn’t be thinking about. Yeah, he bit his nails that way too. So she turned her eyes back on the professor in an effort to shake the thoughts away.

The professor asked the class for their thoughts on the political shit she rambled so passionately about, and she waited for you to raise your hand and start blabbering an Iliad-long narration of your profound thoughts. Hey, you’re supposed to be this political brainiac, right?

But to her surprise, you sit still on your chair, hands on the armrest. A small smile playfully grew on your lips.

And you didn’t even say anything.

***

She read your blogs that night.

She had no freakin’ idea that you two were freakishly alike. In fact you even chose the same wordpress theme. You also wrote the same crazy stuff she did. The only difference is that you post your works in a blog that proudly screamed your name while she posts hers in a secluded corner of the internet under a pen name that does not have the least connection with her real name. Jin, that is. Her pen name is Jin.

She goes over all the things you wrote, and when she’s done she smiles to herself triumphantly because for all the giftedness that you seem to have, she has an awful lot more comments than you do. In your face.

But by the time she finally hits her browser’s exit button, she has no choice to retire that you are indeed brilliant.

You, with your gift for writing that easily overshadowed hers; you, with your carefree defiance of the prodigy stereotype; you, with your definitive glasses and nail-biting carefreeness.

***
She might actually like you, you know.

Too bad she hates people whose names are made of the two letters that yours is made exactly of.

Time to Hit It

Last weekend, I finally decided that I want to learn how to play badminton. By badminton I mean the smart game and not the ‘hit the shuttlecock’ thing that I do every Saturday when my orgmates and I play at Smash.

My dad says that the first step in learning badminton is admitting that I’m new at it. So I’m not gonna be like other people out there who’ve been playing badminton for just a few days but claim that they’re masters of badminton already. I admit that I’m new and I’m not good at it yet, but I hope to soon be. From this day forward, I will strive to do my best for my games to be all about footwork, form and fun.

What made me decide to learn the real game?

I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. ^_^

Just So You Know

Today is gonna be the day when they’re gonna throw it back to you.

I need a break.

I need a break from a lot of things. I need a break from using ‘she’ when I mean me and using ‘he’ when I mean you. I need a break from having ‘Wonderwall’ and ‘Flavor of Life’ as the only songs in my playlist. I need a break from the emotional turmoil of wanting to bring back something that I can never have again. I need a break from all of this – I need a break from you.

By now you should’ve somehow realized what you gotta do.

And so today I’ve decided that I’m going to use ‘I’ to refer to myself in this entry. And I’m going to have a playlist all made up of happy songs. And I’m going to forget the things that I can’t do anything about anymore.

Today I’ve decided to let it all go. Today I’ve decided to let go.

I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.

Three years ago a guy put a ring on my finger and promised me ‘someday’. I knew better than to believe him, so I threw the ring away. Not that long ago you put a smile on my face and promised me ‘forever’. I knew better than to believe you, but for some reason, I thought you were different. So I held on – I am holding on – to your promise.

Backbeat the word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out

Except that sometimes we think we can do things that we don’t do just because we want to. Me, I’m impatient; I don’t like waiting for things that don’t come fast enough. I’m a proximity person; when you’re no longer beside me, everything we shared fades away. I don’t like vagueness; I want to always be able to know which side of the line I’m on. But because I believed every word you told me that night, I decided that I would be patient, I would put up with the distance and I would bear the haziness of it all.

But now I realize that I can’t do this after all. I can’t hold on to ‘forever’ because it hasn’t even been a year and the pain is already unbearable.

I’m sure you’ve heard it all before but you never really had a doubt

I saw this coming a long, long time ago, but I guess I committed the mistake that everyone high on serotonin does: I chose to dwell in the present and not think about the future. Had I had more sense when this started to become a big deal from me, I would have walked away. But I didn’t, and that’s why I’m in the middle of nowhere right now. I’m hurting in the middle of nowhere right now, holding on to your ‘forever’, which I’m not sure when it’s gonna come or if it’s even gonna come.

I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now

I’m trying to hold on because I want to believe in you. But I’ve come past the point where I’m asking myself if your ‘forever’ is really worth holding on to, especially when it’s causing me this much pain. I’ve been told forever before, you know. By a group of people who were supposed to be by my side whatever happens, until the end. But their forever didn’t even last a semester. I’m wondering if yours would be like theirs, and though it pains me to admit it, I think the answer is yes.

And all the roads we have to walk are winding
And all the lights that light the way are blinding

Maybe we’re just not meant for this. Maybe we’re meant for something else. I can’t go on if this forever means waiting for a promise that you’re not even here to deliver. Maybe it looks okay to you because I try to hide it by being supportive of you and your decisions, but the truth is, it’s not okay for me.

It makes me want to cry every time I laugh and pretend to be alright, it makes me want to cry every time I lay on my bed and feel so hollow inside.

There are many things that I would like to say to you, but I don’t know how

I want to believe in you. But I can’t hold on anymore.

They say that you should never regret anything that made you happy. I don’t regret anything then, because you did make me happy. It’s just that maybe this is not what we need right now.

I’m letting go of forever. I’m letting go of you.

Because maybe you’re gonna be the one that saves me. And after all, you’re my wonderwall.

Ode to Aries and Basil

Five Lessons to Live By for a Happy Life

1. Wag ipamigay ang mga regalong binigay sayo. (Nic)

2. Wag magyaya ng ibang lakad kasama ang ibang tao pag may prior appointment ka na. (Nic)

3. Wag masyadong maging close kase baka ma-misinterpret ka. (Aries)

4. Wag makikinig sa sabaw na comments. (Basil)

5. Wag pansinin si Bong pag nanunukso, nonchalant nalang. (Basil)


Kahit sabaw tayong tumambay sa softball field hanggang 12am to wallow in emo-ness and self-pity, nag-enjoy ako.

Maaayos din lahat to. ^_^ Mahal ko kayo.

Tara, manok. ^_^

Sometimes We Need to be Emo.

Ode to Al

Sabi Mo Forever.

Like Rachel Berry with Her Two Gay Dads

Last Wednesday, Kuya Al and I were to have our weekly dose of coffee when on my way to Trinoma I dropped by the Aguman tambayan and saw my beloved Buddy Felipe! It’s been a long time since I and Buddy Feps last hung out because he had his practicum this sem, kaya kinulit ko siya ng kinulit hanggang wala na siyang nagawa kundi sumama sakin sa Trinoma.

After spending the afternoon at Starbucks, the three of us had dinner at Pizza Hut, where we took a couple of pictures including that one (points above). I laughed the first time I saw that picture and told Buddy Feps that it's like Rachel Berry with her two gay dads. :)) Buddy just laughed, pointed at Kuya Al and said “Okay lang basta siya yung maitim!”

I really love my Buddy Feps. ^_^

Sorry. I love you.

“Wag mo nang isipin yon. Nakuha mo naman ang gusto mo.”

Pero hindi, e.

Kung kapalit nito ang samahan natin
Kung kapalit nito ang lahat ng pinagdaanan natin
Kung kapalit nito ang pagkakaibigan natin

Hindi ko to gusto.

Sorry.

I love you.