To Think That....

... everything I thought I feared was, is, in actuality...

... everything I found repulsive.

Reclamation.

Comes in innocent pieces of black cloth.

Soaked in saltwater.

Misinterpreted egos and pride.

I smile at my release...

Blessed blessed release.



[I am rolling on the floor in unrestrained laughter... with teeth bared by a hiss... gahd.]

14th Reawakened.

I want you to tower over me- if only to signify that I am woman and you are man.

That you be fair- if only for the world to see that which I see inside of you.

That your voice be gentle- if only for them to hear that which comforts me.

That your hands be long and gentle- if only for them to see what you are capable of creating.

That your chest be a wide plain- if only for them to see what forms of life take root inside of you.

That these may seem like mere fragments of that which I constantly dream of- if only for me to steadfastly await that waking hour when these fragments come together to form the culmination of your reality....

... Of you finding me...

... and I, You.



_{I'm a sap... so sue me! Haha.}

Sometimes...

Visions of the old cemetery come back to me...and the memory of the heat of my childhood is their afternoon companion.

I came from that dust and heat that [still] permeate the air of my barrio.

I was that kid that used to stare at those old graves- of both the Old and Young and Too-young.

I will always have that part of me sitting under that old tree.

Strange[r] Man.

Your voice came from somewhere warm.From valleys wreathed with gnarled trees and singing brooks.

Like the blanket of an afternoon's heat, you surround my limbs.

Molded Exclusivity.

Beginnings:
With me being polyamorous- I gravitated towards E... for he was intelligent, creative, silent and calm. Even with the professed love for another, I let him into my world as he led me into his... with the professed love for K never diminishing in its potency.

Next:
E, being so much like myself- welcomed others in as well and I fell into a mold culture and traditions set... and so, War broke.

In retrospect:
I was the one with the contradictions. I chose to rebuild the ruined city yet crushed one brick after another until came a second and final Fall.

The present:
E, I offer no apologies for what has been done can never be undone. Rather, it is some form of thanks I now send to you: for the catalyst that triggered refocusing, integration and consolidation of long-held beliefs that I consciously evaded.

Honesty is not a bitter brew that we must choose not to take in.

Reality's recognition and objectivity must never be pushed behind that irrational exclamation of, "But my world and I were violated!"

... for, in all truthfulness, I would have done the very same thing that you had.

[Come to think of it, I did.]

With these, having now been finally said, I thank you, beloved.



S.

Another Set Of Duplicates.

My old apartment. E's house. My soon-to-be former apartment. The studio.

All these keys to the various houses I've come to call "home."

Funny, the house I grew up in has no need for keys.

Hmm... ever-open. Ever-waiting.

Laughing Mountain.

You spoke of music in those hills.

Songs from your once-young limbs.

Twirling with leaves.

Running with the wind.


Your seasons are mine now.

And so are your songs.

And that same joyous smile you've always worn...

is now mine as well.

Oh fragile-looking man.

I know now why you laugh the way you do. I am your neighbor-mountain.

Where The Crows Nest.

The folds of your skin hold secrets.

The secrets of your life.

Yet they also keep the open and visible truths.

[How you have lived your life.]

No paper nor scroll can better document you.


I love you, dad.:)

K And My Childhood.

This rainy afternoon brought you to me.

Years apart- but I now regard you as two separate forms of childhood. Parallel joys and scrapes. Two forms of innocence that stayed and one other that got lost in the untangling of vines and time.

How we all contain all the lives we have lived in this vessel of flesh and blood. How many patches decorate its sides? How many brightly-painted rooms it contains? How many secret passageways it keeps behind the lips that touch the air and wind that might defect to them and betray?

I am the lone keeper of this afternoon’s secret. And the lone connoisseur of the once-bitter pulp. Now sweet after time’s fermentation...

By Any Other Name...

Counterpoint. Soul’s mirror. The other puzzle piece. A child’s favorite tree or toy or teacher or pet or sweet treat.

The same things in simply varied manifestations or representations. I meet with all of them quite frequently, but my other form of expression has yet to be found.

You know what or whom I speak of. Remember, I once asked you if you felt or feel that feeling of “restlessness?” I no longer give the other side of those ill-formed Absolutes the time of day.

Life is good. Life is Joyous. Life is Peaceful. Life is living it and living it out in the brightness of day and Truth.:)

Renewal Of Vows.;)

I renew my vow today: To live not for the sake of another and to not ask for another to swear the same- for my sake.

Today I remind myself of the tasks I have laid out for myself.

Today I remind myself of that peace and happiness I have found and to not let anything or anyone contribute to their demise.

Swirling Yellow Creation.

That this dark matter, enshrined by the arms of the woods' child, holds power. Power from the mind that wields it.

Controlled, yet loved, it creates beauty.

It speaks of the beauty of living. It speaks of the joy of existence. Of pure, guiltless existence.

Light and simple from the many battles it has conquered.

:)

That Togetherness They Speak Of.

It is not a requirement, nor a giddy schoolgirl's daydream...

That your arms acquaint themselves with the feel of me.

That your lips know mine.

That your ears know the sound of my footsteps.

That your eyes single me out from a sea of people.

No, love...

That you exist after all already satisfies me.

Already makes this world clearer.

You exist.

[And] I know you exist... it is enough.

Bedtime Musings.

That tonight, the same moon hangs above us.

That that same wind touches us both.

That we will both close our eyes and in the silence of this passing night, our soft breathing_s will lend themselves to the soft music of this transient night.

I Thank [ ] for...

[Jenny] ...her spirit, her words, her gracefulness.

[Pambie] ...our shared antics, her poetry, her beauty.

[Might] ...her ocean-wide heart.

[Jan and Mel] ...their love triumphant.

[Basti] ...his silent mystery unfolding.

[Honey] ...the innocence and purity of her work.

[Dad] ...his very existence.


:) Everything is clearer in my world...

Romantic Filipinos.

I went to watch a Pinoy film this afternoon... but it was the crowd that entertained me more and succeeded more in warming my heart up.

Displays of affection are not really a common sight in our country- couples kissing or in a tight embrace, you know.

A non-local may construe that we are not a very "warm" or "loving" people.

But... go to a movie house, especially when a local film is being shown and you will see AND hear:

(as the hero, heck merely, touches the heroine's hand or stares at her)... the "cold" Pinoys start giggling like green schoolgirls.

:)

So I Say...

...because of the ways of dreaming, loving and thinking.

... because of my permission to see my face when I was fragile.

...because accepting Reality is not always easy.

...because we built an Age that was beautiful but now lays in ruins.

...because we lost, yet strangely, won from that failure...

Reminders, I Said.

I've always liked being happy in as much as I have had my moments of drama. (But oh that outfit bites into your skin.)

"Forgettable" Me.

Haha. I got a surprise this afternoon when I opened my bag. I accidentally brought my mentor's ash tray with me.

Don't ask.

The funniest thing to happen to me in quite a while. Geez.

That was a good laugh-cry.

:">

Fear Not The Dance Floor.

So the music keeps filling the room...
Let us both dance gracefully to it.

We never have to take any of it seriously, my love.

:)

Dreamless.

I have been sleeping so peacefully for almost a year now that the first dream I had three months ago surprised me quite a bit.

Every once in a while, dreams would visit me...

It's just that those visits were accompanied by Josh Groban's album "Closer."

I'd always sleep with my earphones on but last night I tried sleeping with the speakers on and, let's just say I had a really detailed dream.

I wonder what's in the music that it weaves my dreams. Anyone?:D

Blah, randomness done...^^

I Am, I Think, (.)

This world's child.

Too in love with wind, water, earth and sky.

My arms are forever wanting to stretch themselves out and feel that push, that clear wetness, that rising smell.

Sudden Blank.

(or) More like sudden days of all-day and all-night marathons.

Late-morning wakings and late-night-almost-morning sleeping(s).

Between written words, bath water and bunched-up packets of tiny nibbles.

This, now, being that sudden breath of outside air.

I ramble...

I need unpaved roads.

No Grammar No Drama.

Args. Haha.

My editing skills' ankles have been tied to a rock lately... unfortunately, the riverbed wants them to stay under with it.:D

Haha.

Exeunt...

Letters.

Re-reading Anais Nin.

Between the pages I found a three-year-old postcard from Trish when she was taking her post-grad studies in Australia.

I realized I missed writing letters.

We used to write to each other in high school to somehow splash more color to our long summer days.

Actual pieces of paper.

Actual stamps.

Actual waiting.

Actual gasp when the postman rings the bell.:)

Last Week.

Nothing monumental, but worthy of some note, I believe.

Hot Wednesday.

Funds taking too long to come through.

Man chasing another man with a long knife.

A policeman in civilian clothes drawing out his gun.

Almost-man-murderer passing by us.

_{Split-second-skipped-heartbeat.}

Confused assistants in school tossing me from one office to another.

Ride back to the studio.

Two old women chatting, smelling of old perfume.

A middle-aged female couple holding each other so sweetly. Sigh.

And three young women, quite boisterous the one girl with pink and green barrettes in her hair.

Beautiful skies and landscapes on the way back to the barrio I've missed...

--- End of Babble ---

Places I Haunt.

Light bathes the corners.
The looms' children are warm.
The walls listen and talk back.
_{Then cut off their ears and out their tongues.}

What They Died Of.

_{(Was not of)} A broken heart...

... but of a broken mind.

Jenny, that is why I cannot cry, nor die... ^^... for my mind is more whole now.

And perhaps this is the reason why I have a resident sunshine and an ever-cartwheeling girl inside of me.

I still find it surprising sometimes.:)

Life I Shall Give You.

This land should not be barren, love.
The rivers should not be dry.
They should flow.
Flow into this earth.
Flow through its curves.
Meet new places.
Merge with water.
Water to water.

Sigh... I have come unbound...

I'm... Wonderful.^^

There is this delicious secret...

Hush... I shall tell you when the time is right.:)

For now... let me be the solitary glutton.:)

What Plagues You?

Assuming is a frightening endeavour. Yet, I somehow know that I am the logical choice. And must we not Always follow logic? Yet if I am simply misconstruing, I shall allow Reality to be the final judge. This Love I have cannot be consumated. No exchange of commitments should be expected. I foresee agony...

I'm cutting its head off right now.

Yet...

Oh this Wanting...

Lucidity.

Ridiculous thought, he said, and now the weight of those chains are trying to hold onto my ankles- the once-before-obsessions now being the Obsessed- strange: they are no longer charming.

At times, a question tries to plague me- questions used to plague me all the time- but it dies halfway towards me or is pushed back before it even manages to radiate the emotion-feeding emanations- Now.

Sigh.. no, we don't have to take any of it seriously, my love. Your face is yet unformed, perhaps, unseen for now- but I am slowly retracing the steps to that place where I once drew your reflection- that of my own values- I have forgotten myself for a while and without knowing the weight of it- I have forgotten how I thought you ought to be.

No forgiveness, for here and now is my eternity. And I am happy to know that at this very moment. I am living an eternity in clarity.

Once - Lies.

ERWIN,

There are things I know that you don't know I know.

There are pains that you deal that you don't know I know you're dealing.

There are lies behind your smiles that you don't know I know exist.

And I chanced upon a part of our tower and found them festering it.

That's why we never stood.

No more permissions...

You are no longer my Ideal, spirit-looter.

Mind's Dictate.

Always above that of the Heart.

I have marked painful years on my slate... and in the middle of a cold drink, Clarity sat beside me and looked me in the eyes...

She said I suffered those years because I lacked foresight, rationality and had too many contradictions.

How wonderful to recapture those values I thought I lost or didn't have at all.

It is all so simple now. So simple.

Such simplicity allows me to be light-hearted everyday and to actually, as ought to be, know why I am so.

Good Friday.

A day of passion fueled by brilliant minds and intransigent equals.

Equals, that's what you said, dad.

I shall work and think my way to that level of clarity and peace.

That world of non-Guilt.:)

Just Because You Got Me On My Second Cup.

Let me somehow show a similar reflection:

Odd for a bright day. The stranger who now owns her drawer answers the phone. She becomes a gesticulating fool for a deaf man.

Yes, those shelves will be emptied soon, perhaps in his absence or while they both watch.

Yes, the scent of that distant past will waft into the air, eventually.

Yes, the strands of her hair will no longer call the carpet "home."

Yes, her laughter will turn into a long-forgotten sound.

And one bright day, oddly enough, he'll find his heart breaking. (too)

Thanks, Wook.

I never knew that that's what you've been seeing all this time.

I never knew that I've been blooming all along... all these years.

You're right though. Huli lang si Gumption.^^

This self-doubt that has always accompanied me has to be pushed off a cliff.

^^

Facets Of You, Love.

The jokester. The imbecile. The lover. The quiet. The angry. The brilliant. The fickle. The steadfast. The liar. The promising. The abandoned.

Long Months: Years.

I'm putting "and wonderful" on the second space and "ahead" before the period.

:)

Then this: For Shirley.

Not Enough Black. Not Enough Blue.

Not enough red either.

I want you binding your broken hands on that hill- once you've reached it.

I'm on the other side of your continent already.

You got too busy chasing butterflies on that path.

And I got too busy chasing the blue of that sky.

Jenny Said, Write In Images.

Her face looks confused between laughter and tears.

Her mouth opens wide to let out laughter, to let out sobs.

(Here's me trying...)

She closes her eyes.

Smiles and breathes deeply.

Opens her eyes and smiles as the music soars.

It was all worth it, she thinks.

Somehow.

(See, I will remain that faithful dreamer. That faithful believer. That faithful hopeful... this is just a small, failed test... but there are individuals out there worthy of my faith. Worthy of faith.)

So soaring I will remain.:)

And Strangely Enough.

My birthday gift to myself is an actual, sort of heehee, rebirth.:)

Wow... and the markers started on that day of the departed...

Strange...

I like it.:)

November Weepings.

I wrote those entries before as my markers for the distance I have covered from my recovery from heartbreak.

I was not able to put a last marker then...

Now I realize that it's because you cannot really put recoveries such as the one I self-imposed on a timeout of some sort. _{(Actually, I've always known this- but I've always been sort of the stubborn type. Sometimes I just refuse to acknowledge certain human "frailties.")}

You can only help yourself. Be effortlessly happy and that same happiness will one day just make you realize that that numbness has already been replaced by greater joys and expectations and certain forms of giddiness.

In the end- Shirley is enough.

Shirley is Wonderful.:)

The Truth You Think You Know, Beloved.

Is not going to remain so.

No longer.

These be the last tears you make me hold in.

Sometimes, even the closest of kin, no not sometimes but always- has to deserve affection, trust, love-- they are not mere human affectations.

The land you have tilled with your lies- I have stopped calling it home a long time ago but under the roof of that cafe I have lingered too long... now this too-faithful traveler has to look for another land.

Numbers.

I have found myself running with my memories lately.

Some ghosts decided to join in as well.

Strange thing to realize is that these wisps of faded white no longer frighten me.

They are not the monsters I thought they were.

There is a strange feeling of comfort that comes with them.:)

Gazer Gazed At.

I have always felt this way.
_{Merely gazed at.}

Random As Random Can Get.^^

Got nothing to write down, really.

Just been feeling kinda guilty for "neglecting" my blog... baka tampo na sya. Heehee.^^

Well, school's almost out but what I can't wait for is that project with Jenny.;) And the trip I get to go on for it- literally and figuratively, I'm sure.^^

I miss dad. I miss the stage.

I can't wait to be singing again...

... just thinking. At a younger age, there were rules that I broke whose consequences I really wasn't able to take or better yet, take in. Then I decided to "follow" them. Now I think I should start breaking them again.

My line from that long-ago play is true: "Please God, please, don't let me be normal."

The last thing I want to be is that... No amount of self-imposed headstarts can make it fade into the background of my life.

Sigh... all over the place I am, eh?^^

_{Taking your advice, Jenny. Just write.}

Hung Up On Italian.

I don't know why I'm suddenly aching to go to a land I've never seen before. Whose face and moods I can only paint in my head with the help of the music that comes from its bosom.

I haven't felt like this in a very long time.

Something that is akin to sadness.

Music that is so visual. And all those visions- swallowed by the screaming of the sea and the heat of a day I have never experienced on its shore.

Kitchen Musings.

Each moment should be celebrated. (And) I have learned to make myself as the occasion... as vain as that may sound. Haha.

I have learned to decorate my valleys with brightly-colored banderitas. Though some of my alleys sometimes beg for sun and absent gloom.

I'm learning to mingle with the crowd... and not to stay in my solitary corners.

The Out-Of-Nowhere Blast.

I was just thinking of the things I have long-ago branded as my unshakable convictions...

Sigh... and I wondered if my "questioning" them now is a form of betrayal... but I have learned to stop feeling guilty over my (certain) feelings and thoughts.

Just an inevitable metamorphosis, I guess. .. but it's the same caterpillar.:)

Wooden Planks That I Love.

No, it isn't like that at all... at least not on the actual surface.

No look of despair nor indescribable anguish crosses over their faces. Voices do not really waver so. He does not really roughly take her into his arms and sigh as if it's the last time. No, he does not really suddenly leave her in a now-cold and absent embrace.

Sigh. Not really...

But if the mind can project its workings... this is how it will register on the white screen of reality.

These Days.

So much inspiration and love and positivity and happiness reside in me that I, ironically, find myself crying all the time.

It's as if a whole new continent is wishing to emerge from within me. New landscapes, creatures, ways of thinking, ways of dreaming...

I am standing naked in a field, with my arms spread wide and screaming, "Yes, Fill Me!"

Sigh, I do...

Quite right... a blow that never hurts.:)

Crying...

Over Vivo Per Lei.

Over Brokeback Mountain.

Over Practical Magic.

Over younger girls and their sorrows.

Over birthdays.

Over lost cups of coffee.

Over salt water.

Over my old journal writings.

Over daisies.

Over the beauty of music.

:D What can I say?

On My Journal Today.

The past six years have brought me to this point of greater expectations, realizations, strengths and brighter outlooks. I am surer of myself now and readier to admit the weaknesses I have... and more resolved than ever to banish them until only strength and humility remain.

I used to weep over the various self-deaths... no longer... I need to keep reminding myself that I should have no room for suffering nor pain in the home of my being.

To let light through my glass windwos and keep darkness out with the light I have inside.

<sub>Little girl, do not forget your home. You are in me and I am in you. I will blow dandelions with you... and I will remind you that that fox is not going to take you to a place of promised all-day fun and games.

and that</sub> We are both land and sky creatures...

Lightbulb.

It's quite brilliant, I tell you.

And most of the time it just wants to burst out of me.:)

Yeah, it's funny how you mentioned the magnifying glass... for that's one of the things I have told myself so many times.

It's not as big as it seems.:)

Truth Of The Matter Is...

The throbbing has finally caught up with me...

And new stabs think the center of my being is an apt bullseye.

The Other D.

That's where I am now, I believe.

Strange and foreign and painful.

But he said that lightness awaits me after it.

Gravity's Pull.

This ripe, aching fruit resists the inevitable thud on the ground.

Resists yet longs for the earth in her mouth... in her face...

Four Winds Now.

Have learned and scoured my landscapes. Have been acquainted with its moods.

With them they have brought rain- that destroyed...

... and then rebuilt the broken bones of my being.

As I Love Cearbhall...

Is how I must learn to love you now:

Where fear is absent.

Where pain has no space.

Where translucence is ever-encompassing as its sister sky.

Too long I have lived in shame and the ever tight fist of anger... nobody should live this way. How can one see light and colors behind the dark cover of anger?

I choose to see the beauty of our trysts... though they are now the distant mountains of my home.

Hunting Season.

I am closing the grounds and banning myself from the forest.

I have decided to be content with weaving at my loom and gazing at the wove, so to speak.

I have new patterns to work on... and I really should not waste the light streaming through my open window.

Let the world and the creatures of that forest move about and thrive on their own... my hands have found new lovers and occupations...