A Quickie Scribble on Love Making

strolling the faults
of the earth
waiting for volcanic
eruptions
shall i crumble or
shall i hold my ground?

gasping at the sight
of the explosion
knees are shaking
collapsing with the rocks around
shall i bend or
shall i stand?

hot, melted liquid
of fire
flowing in a ceaseless slide
burning the surface around

i, scrambling,
almost fainting in panic attack

Yearning.

Honey, I miss you badly. It aches. Gawd. We're miles away from each other and we can't do anything about it. Gawd. I shouldn't miss you. Geez.

Try Hard.

Writing for the sake of it.
Few minutes away from the 2nd day.

Plans. Or the Need to Make Some.

Twenty-one.

Contrary to the famous clothing line, which girls go gaga for, I will not be Forever 21. Nobody will be. We can only savor it for 365 days and then another year will start then another and another, until we reach death.

Twenty-one.

At this point of one's life, what shall one do? For an average being, one can finish a degree and find a source of living. Moving out from your generous parents is a bold step, but why not? Manage your life at this young and fruitful age. Work all day, then party like there is no tomorrow. Meet new friends, explore different places, eat unhealthy food, and drink yourself to sleep. You are at the peak of everyone's dream. You are the pilot and the destination is at your command.

Twenty-one.

Disappointments do happen and some dreams have expiration dates attached on them. You either live the moment and disregard the future or fret about tomorrow and kill the fun of today. The choices are a no brainer because you can have the moment, the future, the today and the tomorrow rolled in one. Juggle them to make your dreams happen before they expire. You can always try to be one step ahead of things.

Twenty-one.

It is funny that 365 days can feel like eternity. The constant rush it brings you seem to be endless. Doors of opportunities, wells of knowledge, and roads of experience fill the air you breathe. There is so much more waiting for you to be discovered. It is as though Buzz Lightyear got stuck up with his, "To infinity and beyond!"


------------

Have you gathered yourself up?

Just do it!

Chances and changes.

These two words do not die without the other but somehow they make each other sensible.

It is more than a month now that I've been thinking about quitting my job. It feels horrible and frightening, but liberating at the same time. The thought of being unemployed brings chills to my spine. Overly stated? No, it has some truth in it. Just imagine the endless search for an almost perfect job, the huge amount of vacant hours and the flood of questions coming from parents up to someone you barely know, these are all horrible and frightening. It is the unknown that makes things worse for me. The what ifs are fine but the what if things do nots are definitely a different story. What if things do not go well? What if employers won't hire me? What if I do not land on a better place?

Right. I am undoubtedly killing myself in the process.

Just do it or stop whining!

Could Have Been the Happiest Birthday

when the love of your life is with you on your birthday,

damn it,

pay attention to that person.

you may never anticipate a life and death question,

and darlings,

it will never happen again..

so, please...

pay attention...

don't get ahead of yourselves

cherish that special day..

and one more thing,

never

ever

say these words:

"yes, we're done"

At kahit ilang Ms. Universe pa ang maging kamukha mo,
hindi ka niya mamahalin.

Same old song.

Mister, I just love you so much

Even if it sometimes hurt,

Even if it is impossible for you to feel the same,

I love you through and through.

Ano ba talaga ang gusto mo?

Mamundok
Magtanim ng marijuana
Sumapi sa mga kapatid na rebelde
Mamuhay na parang ermetanyo sa Ibong Adarna

Mag-self exile sa isang isla.
Maging mandaragat sa pagkagat ng umaga't
magpa-fiesta sa gabi,
uminom ng alak ng parang wala ng bukas.

Mag-ala city girl.
Malula sa taas ng mga tore
Mag-elevator paakyat at pababa
Magbayad ng buwis na sa
mga buwaya mapupunta
Isiping ika'y maraming naabot
kasabay ang kape galing sa Starbucks

Magpaka-promdi sa syudad
Tingalain ang lahat
Sumunod sa uso,
sikaping takpan ang bakas ng pinanggalingan
Matakot sa daan-daang kotseng nagkakarera
Mag-ikot nang mag-ikot nang mag-ikot
kahit wala ka ng luntiang makita

Of Mundane Things.

"Multiply it by infinity, and take it to the depth of forever, and you will still have barely a glimpse of what I'm talking about. " -Meet Joe Black, 1998

Wondering, still.

Hindi ko pa rin alam ang gagawin. Parang panaginip na biglang nawala.

Matagal na rin kitang sinisinta, pero peste, tila wala namang mapapala.

Mukhang naghahanap ka na ng iba. Anong nangyari't biglang lilisan na?

Nagseselos at napa-praning. Di ba't wala akong karapatan sabi nila?

Anong magagawa ko't puso'y ikaw pa rin ang itinitibok?

Maging makipaglandian sa iba, sarili'y di hinihimok.

Giliw, sabihin mo't ika'y hihintayin.

Bukas, sa makalawa o kahit isang taon o higit pa.

Sabihin mo lang ay aking magagawa.

-------
Letse. Where is art in there? Hahaha!
I have to summon courage to tell you I care, while you're summoning confidence to find another girl. Failed. Hay. My love for you is greater than my pride. You must be very special. It pains me because you seemed not to give a fuck. That's really cool, isn't it?

ASK ME.

I have no time for bullshit. Or maybe, I have.
I can waste my time rolling on the grass field with you.
I am a sucker for love. You are my Waterloo and I hate it.
Believe me, love. Believe me.
There is so much in you which draws every piece of my soul.
I hate it, I really do.
Please do me a favor. Do not let my eyes set upon yours again.

Diyos ako, ikaw?

I have this weird feeling that I am great at creating things.

Creating something out of nothing
Making a universe from my bare hands
Inventing
Maybe, re-creating or innovating

I am a god.
I don't need constant glorifying rituals and stunts.
I don't feed on prayers.
I am a god.
I do unselfish, calculated and rational acts.
I do love with no boundaries, with no threats of eternal damnation.
I am a god.
I can't be offended
I can't be insulted
I am a god.

Right.

I have to constantly remind myself that you are not mine.

So, go ahead, play around.

Oh.

Pwede pong magselos?
Syet.
HAHAHAHA!

----------

okay.kalmado na ulit. whew!
hahaha! bipolar lang, baby?

Love is just another curse word...

...that goes with crap, shit, bull and fuck.

I sound like a broken-hearted teenager.

No, I'm not. Not yet. Hopefully, not again.

Paranoia, I must say.

Maybe there's something to hold onto. Maybe he's madly and passionately in love with me, too. Maybe he's as crazy about me as I am to him. Maybe he's also mooning over me and missing me every hour of each day. Maybe he's as annoyed as me because of the distance that separates us.

Maybe, just maybe. Again.

This is why I hate love. And I love you.

------------------

Or maybe, I just need somebody to listen to my outrageous ideas.

Today I need a confidante, not a lover not even a close friend.

Is that normal?

Lunes.

I never hated Monday.

I always anticipate its coming.
Just like weekends
and slices of cake
and a sundae and
anything sweet.

Monday is a sweet day.
It fuels me; brings me into a realm
of intertwined dimensions.
I like Monday and its simplicity
disguised by weekend hangovers
and melo-drama trivialities.


I like Monday.
It reminds me that a busy week is ahead;
ensures me that I wouldn't die today;
that I have lived for the past weeks;
that I would carry on and on and on.

Monday is a day of hope.
It gives me reasons to do better than yesterday;
to live life to its fullest, or foolest;
to have fun, to hope and to work,
to love and to discover,
to explore the world.


*disclaimer: disclaimed.

What could possibly go wrong?

When your writing skills go with your college days you are probably in deep shit.

Do you really have the skill? Or is it just one of those wishful thinkings?

Dreamy.

You tried and tried to read articles, blogs or anything that can uplift your spirit so as to make you spit the right words, sadly, there was nothing. Nada.

You continuously succumb into throwing words out of the window, feeling they are all one and the same. And then, your inferiority complex makes a grueling comeback. Your grammar sucks. You don't know how to use the heaven-forsaken language and its syntax. You're a poser. Knowing the difference between YOUR and YOU'RE; and among THEIR, THERE and THEY'RE doesn't make you a grammar genius. Even the knowledge you hold with the proper use of BETWEEN and AMONG won't make any fucking sense. What do you do next?

You fall into a vortex of self-pity. Shamelessly, you announce to your blog that there's nothing worth reading in it. This is just a site full of crap, misery and drama that even your writing potentials leave. How can I ever turn that maderpader writing potential into KINETIC (moving/useful) skill.

Life. Cruel life. And now, I'm blaming life and next the Solar system, the Milky Way and the whole Universe. Hahaha.

Now I am wondering if what I'm feeling is a rush of hormonal girl shit or is it really my subconscious self overpowering my usual insane side.

And then I ask my self...

You want to become a writer? You want to tell stories? You want to become a filmmaker?

Yeah. I want to become all of those. Plus a money-maker.

 Where am I good at?

Whining? Babbling? Talking non-sense? Covering my most profound unconscious side (which may change the course of humanity) because I am such a coward?

I'm stressed. Clearly. Who isn't?

It's almost 1 in the afternoon.

I know the cure.

FOOD. and lots of LOVE.  or
LOVE. and lots of FOOD.