SOMEDAY
The nameless vow; I will not be regret.
No more of that. Never of this.
The bruising of the fallen. The weightlessness of flight.
My fate unsealed. I will be broken and more.
Fear will take me to where courage is needed.
I will fight. I will make my stand.
I will be broken and more.
But, wings and fire cannot take me.
No more of yesterday.
Never again of tomorrow's promise.
Now. I will leave, then I will live.
Everything in the tracks, nothing in the tank.
Phantoms of shifting freeways,
silence my rage, focus my sights.
Till weary feet find its home,
I will ride my poison, my salve, my soul.
For in this world, there is no difference.
When freedom will be my cage,
then I am broken no more.
11:05 PM
I FEEL LIKE WRITING
Time is something that eludes everyone, despite the fact that it's always there, in front of you, in your hands, always felt but never grasped. Time is like the mistress who's been with everybody, but nobody owns her. We use her, but we are her slaves. We think we are able to consume her, when really we consume ourselves. And when she is gone, like most people, we will realize how beautiful she was. But for the most part, time just stands there, a quiet witness to our endless chasing of other things that are not ours as well.
I guess all I'm saying is that it's been a while. There are some spaces I have not chartered, but hardly are they not travelled. There are pages that are not written, but who can say that they were not lived? Who can measure the weight of choices, or the distance between the ticks of a clock on when we decide? Who can say how powerful things must be for them to be able to move us? Who can judge the weight of silence against the ramblings of an attempted existence? There are so many things I could tell you. Ugly things. Beautiful things. But mostly, just things. Blank pages do not mean anything. Only that sometimes, there are things that do not fit a container.
I guess all I'm saying is that it's been a while. I could of course be referring to a couple dozen things, but for now, I simply refer to my writing- about my thoughts, my nothings, my somethings. But always, to my conscious knowledge, true things. As if that matters anyway.
Silence will always mean a great many things to me. It is my friend, my weapon, my hideaway, my standard, my curse. But quite honestly, I myself cannot fathom the seasons in which I wallow in its depths or decide to wander from its embrace. In any case, all I know is that I simply do. There is almost an equal amount of contempt in my experience on whether one remains quiet, or one tries to be "eloquent". So in the grand scheme of things, maybe it doesn't matter to choose to be either. It seems however that recently I have been more of the former. Though that's hardly a surprise, I think I've set a new personal record high.
As I said, there a lot of things I could talk about. Things like starting the new year with a prayer while I stand alone on the roof deck beneath the stars and fireworks. And how one of the first things I did for the new year was send a text message, which eventually developed into one of the biggest and best surprises I've ever had. I could talk about love, and how finding someone that really means something can make you quite simply and truly happy. But that in itself is a topic whose simplicities and complexities naturally contest any attempt to condense it into words. So I won't try, well at least not right now. I could talk about my thesis, how it's been a real struggle to juggle time, inspiration and the tedious task of execution while worrying about everything else plus the fact of finding out that you no longer know how to draw. There was also the time of great sadness, when my heart was crushed at the notion that I would not be allowed to graduate. After everything I've tried to do right for the past four years, it seemed painful that my simple hope of having a clean ending to my academic life would be denied. Then there came the great sigh of relief and gratitude when I was told I would indeed graduate with my batch (Thank you God!). And a little cherry on top of that was the fact that my thesis was one of those chosen to have a college grant (Show me the money!). But then I could also talk about the awkward feeling of not knowing what lies ahead. There is that sneaky feeling of freedom yet also pressure. I do not know anymore if it is okay to just takes things as they come or be overanalytical. Safe or sorry? I could talk a great deal of what I think of those two words. I could go on, but don't worry, I won't.
Silence can be quite addictive. I realize I am at a loss at this thing called life. I have done things my kid self wouldn't be too happy about. I have grown to despise people and even friends for reasons I cannot even comprehend. Sometimes my silence is ignorance. It is a very weary world to live in if we lose sight of things, and I am afraid that is very much the case. I still believe in things, but I'm not sure I remember why. But i'll try. There's nothing much left to do anyway.
Lately, I feel like dreaming again. I dream of pursuing a film career, of taking up some course on cinematography and maybe even some creative writing. I dream of finishing my graphic novel on Bonifacio, despite the fact I was not satisfied with the condition of my thesis when I submitted it. I dream of feeling that thing I was feeling when I was 13. I still dream of running away, even for just a little while, on an open road to nowhere. I dream of knowing that I will always have someone to watch fireworks every new year (or Christmas). I dream of being able to conquer my fears, all of them, although I'm least optimistic about my fear of flying. I still dream, I guess that in itself is a good thing.
If filled pages mean anything, I guess it's just that someone tried to share something captured from perfect thought. The attempt in itself should be worth something.
I missed this. It is a good thing I think, to be able to talk to everyone and yet no one.
....
"The right to be heard does not automatically include the right to be taken seriously."- Hubert Humphrey
12:08 AM
Happy New Year
this isn't really a greeting
Well... for all my so-called control, worrying, adapted cool exterior, indecisiveness, secrecy, tug-0-war reasonings, clinical denial, calculated vague indifference, and predictive analytical abilities, I was right about one thing. Happy people do not write. They just walk around the supermarket aimlessly for about an hour, ending up with just a milk carton in hand, eyeing a pack of strawberries suspiciously on the way out from the counter.
....
"...love from one being to another can only be that two solitudes come nearer, recognize and protect and comfort each other." - Han Suyin
8:10 PM
Backseat Philosopher
Right now, I'm thinking about the neighbor who knows how to play the violin. I'm wishing I knew how too. But since I don't, I'll just have to hang by the balcony to listen, where the wifi connection is best(we steall it from the neighbors, shhhh); and as far are as recording the crazy tunes that come to my head every now and then goes, I'll just have to keep my recorder handy.
The only thing as good (or bad) as silence to let your thoughts roam wild is music. It just gets in there, messes with your head and lets it run around screaming, just figuratively of course. Although a literal response would possibly be more entertaining. And I dunno, there's still something about hearing a song over the radio that beats hearing it out of your mp3 player or ipod. Is it because the universe seems to talk to us at that moment, that by some chance a "good" song is playing? Or is it because on radio, the experience is more fleeting and beyond our control that we have no choice but to enjoy it while it's there? Or is it that somewhat rare occurance that one goes, "Oh, I've forgotten about this song, it was one of my favorites."? Who knows really?
Now I'm thinking about the jeep beside our car. I remember how once, near the back entry of the public vehicle I spied a pair of great legs, and as I viewed up towards the face I realized it was her. If there was any inkling to her that I was staring at her legs rather impolitely, it didn't show since she just waved and flashed that smile of hers. Sigh. I can only imagine now what kind of silly expression I must have had on my face at that moment.
Then I shift my eyes to the stars, and I remember my step-grand dad, who was a war veteran. Always wanted to share his stories, and in his old age, it seemed like it was all that he could think about. There was a sadness to his eyes sometimes that made me understand somehow how crazy wars must really be. Anyway, I remember him with the stars because he told us that he was the chef on the ship that picked up the 3 astronauts(from the moon expedition with the armstrong guy) when they crashed/landed into the ocean from space. It was his food that they first got to eat on their return from space, my step-grand dad would brag. I heard, on his deathbed he was shouting the words, at some imaginary(or unseen) things, "Get away from me you Devil!" He had died scared.
As the car hits a speed bump I remember one time as I went out biking that a group of dogs started to get hostile. Our dog, a German Shepard, came to the rescue, and though she was outnumbered, she still managed to draw their attention, giving me a chance to get a stick and make a quick exit. After a short scuffle between the dogs, she managed to make a strategic retreat and we headed back home.
I wonder if someday I'll ever be lucky enough to find someone to share my nothing memories. Stuff that might not really amount to anything but are really worth more than anything. The little things. Small things. The very specific minute details that compose our specific realities. Endless things.
And surprisingly, my thoughts end with a weak smile...but a smile nonetheless.
....
"Whatever games are played with us, we must play no games with ourselves." -Ralph Waldo Emerson
11:20 PM
the Unfinished
taken from LOCKING ARMS by Stu Weber
...two soldiers became particularly close. Day after day, night after night, terror after terror, they talked of life, of families, of hope, of what they would when (and if) they returned from this horror.
On one frutiless charge, "Jim" fell, severely wounded. His friend "Bill," made it back to the relative safety of the trenches. Meanwhile Jim lay suffering beneath the night flares. Between the trenches. Alone.
The shelling continued. The danger was at its peak. Between the trenches was no place to be. Still, Bill wished to reach his friend, to comfort him, to offer what encouragement only friends can offer. The officer in charge refused to let Bill leave the trench. It was simply too dangerous. As he turned his back, however, Bill went over the top. Ignoring the smell of cordite in the air, the concussion of incoming rounds, and the pounding in his chest, Bill made it to Jim.
Sometime later he managed to get Jim back to the safety of the trenches. Too late. His friends was gone. The somewhat self-righteous officer, seeing Jim's body, cynically asked Bill if it had been "worth the risk." Bill's response was without hesitation.
"Yes, sir, it was," he said. "My friend's last words made it more than worth it. He looked up to me and said, 'I knew you'd come.'"
....
Once, a good friend caught me off guard by saying out of the blue, "Kuya, kaya mo siguro gusto si Batman kasi kahit ganyan ka, nagagawa mo pa ring maging Bruce Wayne." Didn't quite know what he meant by that, but I guess anything that links me to the Bat can't be too bad. I think.
....
Growin up as kids, we had vitamin C supplements in lemon and lime flavor (yumyum!). We weren't allowed to take more than one a day. One time, I particularly remember announcing, "With God as my witness, I only took one from the bottle!" Then when no one was looking, I took 2 (or 3) and gobbled 'em up like candy.
....
Sigh. I've been here before. It doesn't get any easier. Maybe it's not suppose to. So long yet so slow. Maybe there's a lesson here somewhere...something I haven't learned. And till I get it right, there will always be this.
....
"You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life." -Winston Churchill
11:15 PM
"Lying is done with words and also with silence."- Adrienne Rich
Love problems. Everyone's got 'em in one form or another. And for the past few months, people have been telling me theirs. Don't ask me why everyone turns to the neighborhood cynic for advice...but I do try to listen as best I could, and I guess that's mostly what they need. (And every now and then a good kick in the butt to get them to their senses...aaah, with friends like me, who needs enemies?haha).
Well, we all know how hard it is to say those 3 letter words. Yeah, those words. Yeah. hard. But, I think (think lang naman)there's one other thing harder to say. "He/she loves me." Yeah. I realized, that's one thing a lot of people find much harder to say, considering if they intend to say it seriously. And when they do, people who hear it probably go "Talaga?". If they don't say it, they at least think it. And to a certain degree, people are probably generally unsure if they are really loved or if they even deserve it. And something I observe is that people who do say these things with some level of conviction risk recieving the judgment of being overly presumptuous. Ha! and people say I'm cynical. But then again, maybe there is some reason to the doubt. People aren't readers of the mind or the heart. And I guess, the spoken word over time has been taking a beating when it comes to sincerity. Anyway, to those who know what it is to be loved...look me up, I need to hear new (happier) stories. I need to hear em badly.
....
5:46 AM
North Wind .... "A word to the wise ain't necessary, it's the stupid ones who need the advice."- Bill Cosby
In many ways, I am not home, and quite possibly... never will be. Not here anyway. Or maybe that's just me trying to put my expectations of the future as stone etchings in my mind. Not a good idea, I know. But then again, I tend to be right...especially on the points I don't want to be right on.
I wonder how long I can keep fighting myself and the world at the same time. I wonder how long I would have to stay in this realm of devious politeness. I wonder if there is some place I can finally go to. Somewehere to rest my head. I am tired...and I haven't even tried to live yet. For all the vaunted control and pursuit of honesty, I still fail to fight for what is precious to me, what is true, for me. Why does this truth need this world's permission? Or why do i think it does?
Maybe...
Whatever it is I think I have to do, I don't. Whatever it is I think I have to be, maybe it's time to let go of that. Maybe I can stop going to those places where nobody knows me, those places where I can't be known. Maybe I don't have to be a stranger all the time. Maybe it is time, maybe it's a chance, and for once, I might have to stop thinking if I deserve it at all.
Goodbye would be easy, if only it wasn't so final. Being strong enough to do things alone isn't as great as it's cracked up to be. And thinking you can do things alone is actually as stupid as you suspect it is.
I look around at all the broken things. And despite that, there's still so much breaking that could happen. I want to have the power to stop it. I want to make it different. I wonder if I can when I don't know how. I wonder if there will ever be an end to this quiet insanity.
But...
there she is. Hope still sits there. Waiting. I don't deserve her. But why does she wait?
But, without her, I dont have a chance. Without her, I am already gone. Hope...
thank you.
....
I remember what I wrote, those many years ago. I only wish I can remember if I meant it.
Like the sun, you dawned on me.
Bringing back color into this artist's heart,
you will always be that star,
in the night that is my life.
1:26 AM
One-liners :)
Sometimes a majority only means that all the fools are on the same side.
A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match for me at kickboxing.
Good girls are bad girls that never get caught ;p
Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy.
Too many freaks, not enough circuses.
A bank is a place that will lend you money, if you can prove that you don't need it.
I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.
Never let your sense of morals prevent you from doing what is right.
Even if you manage to convince me that I am gay, I am NOT going to sleep with you.
If the number 2 pencil is the most popular, then why is it still number 2?
We'll get along just fine as soon as you realize I'm God.
Vegetarian: native American definition for "lousy hunter".
If winning isn't everything, why do they keep score?
Politicians have one thing in common. They should both be changed regularly, and for the same reason.
I don't trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn't die.
I used to think I was indecisive, but now I'm not too sure.
Join The Army, visit exotic places, meet strange people, then kill them.
Choose a job you like and you will never have to work a day of your life.
Attend church weekly NOT weakly.
Anyone who thinks they are too small to make a difference, has never been in bed with a mosquito.
They call it "pms" because "mad cow disease" was already taken.
I don't approve of political jokes, I've seen too many of them get elected.
Eat right, exercise, die anyway.
more at onelinerz.net
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"No question is so difficult to answer as that to which the answer is obvious." - George Bernard Shaw
1:04 PM
