Without Any Further Thought.

This has been quite a shattering night. Family secrets I never thought existed came bursting out of a broken heart. The impact it had on me was I started killing the romantic and faithful believer in me. My heart is breaking as well.

Right now, it seems that my idealism suddenly died...

I am heartbroken.

Countdown To November 30.

I am pinning this reminder on this blog.

At the end of the countdown, I will tell you what I meant by "this reminder."

Perhaps, things will be clearer then...:)

I'm The One Haunting The Graveyards Now, Beloved Ereyon.

I feel lost without you, beloved. But the other thing that keeps me bathed in this light is the knowledge of my knowledge of you: That your heart does not hold petty beats. That that heart is mine still. That I haven't really lost you.

How can I lose you when you finally find yourself?

Ours is something that time, distance and tasks cannot completely extricate from our lives' designs.

This is a journey you must take on your own and I can only hope to see you at the end of it.

Strange how intact my faith in you is. What are time and fleeting moments against the truth of our love, really?

I will never lose you and you will never lose me.

I want you to have the kind of wholeness I have now in your absence... in that wholeness you, too, will realize how entwined we really are.

No nights with a stranger, no stranger's effects on my drawer and no pedestrian efforts at conversations can push me from your life just like that.

This phase of yours is mine as well.

I know I will see you at the end of it...

Unless, You or I or _{by some sort of miracle} a Stranger wake/-s me up from this it's-a-dream-afterall...

The doors of my home are now open to that Don Juan._{It's just that the daydream seducer possesses Your traits love...}

I have time... Let's spend it together with me shouting from the other end.

Follow my voice...

Running Blindfolded, Screaming.And Carelessly Cartwheeling.

See, it's just a matter of choice.

Don't feed the monster.

Tempt not yourself.

Home has its pains.

But it also has its joys.

You are not defeated until yourself proclaims and admits it.

Six-strings are good substitutes for a couch.

Thank goodness I have good skin.

Too bad I'm short.

But the world listens when I sing.

I ran this morning and I felt like I was six again.

I am too wonderful to wallow in pain.

I remember the yellowbells I used to watch from my treetop twirling down to the ground._{I was your regular monkey-girl.}

I really should bake something .

If the love of my life refuses my future kids, sigh, I will have to settle for Marcus Schenkenberg.

Oh, and I have the most wonderful of friends and mentors.

Reader, forgive me... but I was being beset by a flood of thoughts and emotions. It felt unfair to sieve the other thoughts out so I decided to give in to these bratty children of my mind.

In Silence's Hut.

I should stay longer for our afternoon teas.

Contentedly watching the trees turn their leaves to either embrace or give in to the seasons.

I am slowly making my way back to you.

I am relearning to refine my words.

My grace got lost in too much talk.

And This somehow shames me.

But realizations like these have learned to sit comfortably with me and I don't know if I invite trouble sometimes but I am glad that at some points in my life I had the low ones. There is just so much Much...

(Sigh... I hide in metaphors because the metaphors I give birth to are the individuals who are close to my heart and I don't want to pit them against the world. I wish to keep our intimacies suggestive.)

And most of the time, what I write here are mere reminders to myself. They are the Ages of my history.

The Celebration Dad Spoke Of.

I want you to love me because you are complete without me.

I want you to love me without time, distance, silence, another, fear and doubts as the other six parties.

For that is how I have now learned to love myself.

And in that self-love, I, too, have _(re)realized the love I had _(have) for you.

But you have to meet me at the same point, beloved.

_{For I finally accepted that I would not want you any other way.}

As my 18-year-old self once said, my 26-year-old self now repeats, "Love cannot live in one who is afraid."

I can only hope to see you where fear is absent.:)

Poor Old Bush.

Forgive me for beating around you too often.

Don't worry, one of these days, I will choose not to hide in metaphors.

You will have my words in broad daylight and not shrouded in darkness.

Just ye wait.^^

Between Pride And Leniency.

My drive and patience are both wearing thin. Will it be such a crime if I now contemplate on jumping overboard?

I do not know the course the captain has plotted and for some strange reason I somehow feel that this ship has actually been sinking...

I Do Not Apologize.

For who I am.

For what I am.

For there is no crime in having...

... being myself.

But for the crimes I have committed and for the times my (I thought) well-meaning steps have crushed another's path : I ask forgiveness.

What Makes Things Worthy Of Dissertation? (or something akin to this...)

Should I unfold my sleeve?

Or maintain the now-comfortable fold?

_{Talk is cheap but sometimes the price of being able to enunciate the words that have been longing for esape is quite dear, really.}

To You Who Do Not Know The Motions Of My Sea.

I have grown strong limbs for swimming.

And my coral cries are no longer those of weeping.

I have become a being of the sea.

_{(and of the shore.)}

Strange how calm my waters have become.

_{(How steady the used-to-be-foreign land have become.)}

Wherever I shall find myself in the end, I no longer fear.

For I have found myself.

Unto myself, I am complete.

And I shall create more adjuncts of myself.

Wonderful possibilities.

I shall fulfill you all...

October Dandy Lions.

I was walking home a while back with the rain light on my face.

A smile tugging the corner of my lips.

The roads you float over are green.

The afternoons are rain-kissed and dust perfumes the air.

You bring back my childhood with you.

It's been so long since I have felt this feeling of simple contentment.

As That Night Was.

So am I Now.

I feel like I am about to be put on the shelf
to gather dust.

To silently turn yellow with age.

Ye olde maiden.

Oh Wow, I'm Daydreaming!^^

Wait! I always daydream.

Hmm... but I guess what I meant was, I haven't daydreamed high-school style in quite a long while now....

And I am not going to apologize for it.:p

All In All.

I'm glad I said yes to coming home.

I have always felt this indescribable sort of emptiness that I just didn't know how to go about filling.

That painting of Monet comes to mind...

Perhaps being on top of that hill and watching the waves of the shifting ocean didn't completely satisfy me for I was in too much of a hurry to get to the top.

I failed to see that path of sunflowers in my haste.

Now that emptiness is getting filled... I am taking the yellow view in.

Sigh... I have been away too long.

In Pieces Perhaps It Hides.

Or perhaps has hidden too long.

Now that silent, broken heart (perhaps) has caught up with the age of that old man.

Legs too old to keep beating around that bush... he lashes out.

His attacks made stronger by that heart long been kept silent.

Sigh, and I try not to lash out, too.

(I do not.)

For what do I really know about the things that drive silent, tolerant (old) men into breaking those lifelong habits?

Only thing I am sure of is that when a dam gets too ful, it spills over and floods out...

Boy Oh Boy Oh Boy!

I'm glad I'm no longer a teenager.

Otherwise I would have have been irreparably damaged.

Too old to entertain the drama.

The parts and scenes played by those actors are unknown to me.

An interactive member of the audience I am.... ill-timed. I came in at the start of Act II.

_{Did I really spring from those fatal loins?}

Finally!

I have time to:

say that on that really bitch (forgive my french) of a day, a beautiful morning and a breathtaking evening reminded me of the things that make life beautiful... so the bitch part got downplayed somehow.^^

think further that people can be mean but even mean people must have bestfriends and this general fact should somehow mean that there is still goodness in them. (grudgingly, but, yeah...)

regain my brain... haha, poor creature's been overstressed by moi.^^

"make love" to Rico.:p

think of a more suitable name aside from Rico. (so prosaic, geez)

I can edit my posts... ^^

Happy Because.

I am wonderful.^^ (guilt-free, in the absence of vanity, I admit this... at least to myself)

(and to you who may just be reading these words now)

I remained graceful, though sleepy and tired, at the end of it all.

I have two wonderful weeks waiting for me.

I can focus on Rico. (Haha, I really should be more creative but that's the only name I can think of.)

I can visit dad.

I can visit Ugly.

I can visit my duckies.

At the end of it all, there is so much to be thankful for.^^

Those Of My Roots.

Are slender.

_{Sometimes too slender I think that a single gust of wind just might carry them away to other lands.}

Are loud.

_{Most of the time too loud for comfort.}

Are cariñosa.

_{They are the voices that giggle inside dark theaters.}