delirious

ninoy-cory love team

2009-08-07T04:33:00.002+09:00

"I realize I’ve been very stingy with my praise and appreciation for all your efforts – but though unsaid – you know that as far as I’m concerned you are the best. That’s why we’ve lasted this long. There will only be one thing in the world I will never accept – that you love me more than I love you – because my love though unarticulated for you will never be equaled."

-Ninoy's last love letter to Cory-

***
I have fallen in love
With the same woman three times
In a day spanning nineteen years
Of tearful joys and joyful tears.

I loved her first when she was young
Enchanting and vibrant, eternally new
She was brilliant, fragrant and cool as the morning dew
I fell in love with her the second time

When first she bore her child and mine
She's always by my side, the source of my strength
Helping to turn the tide…
I fell in love again with the same woman the third time

Looming from the battle her courage will never fade.
Amidst the hardships she has remained
Undaunted and unafraid
She is calm and composed. She is God's lovely maid.

-Ninoy's poem for Cory-

***

-Jiggy Cruz' live tweet during the funeral parade-

pibs at 365 days :]

2009-08-01T16:28:00.008+09:00

The day has finally come. I put off writing about you for as long as I could. But now that I can no longer hide behind the lack in my vocabulary, nor the inappropriateness of my timing, I am finally permitting myself to succumb to this inexplicable urge to tell the world about the person who makes me feel so loved.

A year ago, you were just a guy I go to class with. You were a guy who sat two seats away from me, a guy who sends me confessions when he’s drunk, a guy who stole glances at me when he found grammatical errors in the CIs statements, a guy who amused me at the amount of mischief he is able to get away with just because he is a guy. Three hundred sixty-four days ago, you were just a guy.

But then exactly a year ago today, you stopped becoming just a guy. A year ago today, you became the guy; my guy.

We were having a lousy class about the discomforts of pregnancy, and I vaguely remember hearing “increased frequency in urination because of the increasing pressure the growing uterus is exerting on the bladder” when you sent me a text message. It was very trivial, really. In fact it contained only three words: Lingi sa nako.

To this day, I credit that moment to be the defining moment in our relationship, because insignificant as it may seem to the outside, that was the moment I knew that I would never allow myself to live another day without you.

This is an attempt to chronicle 10 of the most unforgettable moments in our one year as Pibs:

10. Skin test. You found out you were allergic to Tide the hard way. You were used to washing your uniform with Ariel but you could not afford to buy Ariel so you settled for Tide instead. You got a nasty rash because of that. The next time we met after your positive skin test, I gave you three sachets of Ariel.

9. Paperchats. We used to have these long paperchats about anything and everything. We usually had them during Pharma class. Of course when the CI called you to participate in class, you could easily answer the question (as if you were following the whole lesson all along). It was also during these paperchats that you discovered what a lovely speller I am.Yes, Pibs, I know now how to spell Aceta-freaking-minophen.

8. Disco Incident. It was our first legitimate fight. I was so disappointed with you, but I stood by you nonetheless. People gossiped about what happened, they judged you, persecuted you, questioned you. But I believed (and still do) that contrary to how you act sometimes, at the end of the day, you are a truly decent guy. That day you saw me walk in when the rest of the world walked out.

7. Oishi Manju. You kept teasing me about how a girl who grew up in Cebu had not tasted those little Korean cakes. You came to my house with a handful of Oishi Manju cakes. And Dolfenal for my menstrual cramps. Haha.

6. Bogo. Our first out-of-town trip together. We fought on the first day, you started sulking and slept for most of the afternoon. But come night time, right before we were about to sleep, we used Inday Gaea’s toy to reconcile and be bestfriends again. And yes, you took that Sinong- bestfriend-mo? picture. I learned so much more about you on that trip. Apart from the fact that you were once awarded Best in Leaf and Seed Identification, I learned of just how much my worth is to you.

5. Kim. Yours and mine. Different people sharing the same name, both giving us so much love and joy. I still cannot find a way to satisfy the dictates of propriety to define this phase in our relationship. So I leave it at this: babe and beb will be the closest things we’ll have as excuses to be happy without each other.

4. El Cudeta. We fondly refer to this night as the eve of when we broke up. Though not inebriated, we were finally brave enough to confess how much we loved each other. I broke down infront of you when you confessed how the months apart has taken its toll on you. You held me close when you told me just how much my being away from you kept you from being truly happy.

3. The Break – Up. The most painful thing I’ve had to go through in a long time. More than the longest letter you’ve written me, it taught us never to let each other go again, because frankly, there is no reason in this lifetime for it to be worth it.

2. June 17, 2009. On any given rainy day, you’d conclude I’m sad. I’ve influenced you to believe that I control the weather. But this particular rainy day, I wasn’t sad at all. In fact I’ve never been happier on a rainy day because that particular rainy day, we shared an umbrella but you ended up getting wet. Nothing says I love you more than volunteering to be cold just so I can stay warm.

1. The Felony. Just recently, I was having one of my sad days. I dragged you to National Book Store so I can buy something to lift my spirits up. I picked a yellow balloon with a smiley face on it. We went to the counter to pay for it but the cashier said they could not find the price tag for the balloon. A line was starting to queue up behind me, and I was feeling guilty for making all those people wait (when the cause was a lousy balloon) so I cancelled the purchase. I was feeling sadder when we exited the store sans balloon but then you pulled me close and showed me something you pulled from your pocket. You shop lifted it! You were grinning, obviously pleased with what you did. I just started hugging you in the middle of the mall, trying so very hard not to cry.

That is what you do, Pibs. When I feel like the world is conspiring against me, you make it your personal quest to defy it. You always find a way to make me happy. Even if that might cost you your freedom.

There are a lot more moments worthy to share(like our days with Jilian, your jelousy about Jop, your confrontation with chime, your impeccable Tagalog, the night you spent in the hospital with me, your first iced coffee, my summer crisis) but I feel that I must stop now least I violate some sort of blog entry limit.

So, yes. Finally your stalking has paid off.

I love you, Pibs!

And Happy, Happy Anniversary!

pibs

2009-07-12T03:35:00.006+09:00

hey you,

be patient.
i will find the right words to say.
keep stalking. it will pay off soon.
:P

--
let people talk. let them say what they want to say.
we know where we stand, and that's all that really matters.

my friend, gierad

2009-07-06T02:58:00.004+09:00

it's 2:52am and i'm making this post for gierad. i've written about him a coupla times before. but this, i believe, is the only time i've written about him half awake.

--

i have this friend. his name is gierad. and over the years, he has metamorphosed from crush, to chat mate, to philosopher, to co-superhero, and lately, he has taken the form of a mirror which casts reflections i sometimes do not wish to acknowledge.

we met outside of cebu. we were both in bais for a competition. we were at the registration hall and it was raining outside. i remember the room being crowded, and it smelled like wet earth. he bumped into me. he whispered sorry, of course (ever the gentleman) but that was it. not a second look. not a name. not a friendly smile.

i thought he was cute. but it was raining and i was too mesmerized by the raindrops to be bothered.

that is not however the story of how we became friends. we became friends by accident. he bumped into me (or did i bump into him?) only this time, i was infront of a monitor, and so was he, thousands of miles away where snowflakes fell on stone pavements with chalk drawings.

it's ironic how i protest against the possibility of finding lasting relationships online and found, in all sense of the word, a friend who unbelievingly could read me like he were an expert and i an ancient text of a burried and forgotten race.

over YM, i learned of a man whose dreams go beyond race and economy. a man whose days are lived with passion and integrity, a calming force who in so many times hushed a tempest, a friend who sees me even without looking at me.

bararad, though it creeps me out that you know things about me even before i do, i am grateful for your friendship. had it not been for our random talks about life and love and all the drama in between, i would've missed knowing parts of myself.

--
clips, bits and sips from our superhero conversations:

(rephrased)

rad: you are attracted to wise, complicated, insightful men.

tez: and you have made this conclusion based on?

rad: well, is it not true?

a) you are attracted to wise men = older men. older men tend to be more experienced. something younger men cannot offer you. therefore, older men tend to be wiser and it fascinates you.

b) complicated men = men who have uncommon upbringings, alternate lifestyles and thinkings. you love stories and so you are intrigued by these men. you are drawn to what they have to tell.

c) insightful men = men who have different beliefs,who do not follow the norm. you want to learn so you open yourself to the concepts these men offer.

tez: you're so creepy.

***

rad: "Swept away" man ka Inday Tez.. Captivated and mesmerized, like a person on the curb witnessing a train blaze through a railway leaving you with messy hair, but because the experience was rare and one of a kind, you wait and smile because you are certain it will come back-- right on schedule.

tez: swept away is probably the best way to put my current state of my mind. he's just turned me topsy-turvy, inside-out, helter-skelter, head-over-heels, tanan na.

thing is, bararad, i am not certain. there is nothing about our relationship that is certain. but because the train blazing through the railway made me feel such a rush, i wait wide eyed, hopeful, hypnotized and mesmerized for it to come back. i wait. with the messy hair and all :)

--
and yes, bararad, up to this day i stand by what i said. you knew my favorite song even before i heard it.

EDIT:
jude: he's very wacky. made me laugh. you two are laughers. no wonder you're friends :)

cookoo

2009-07-04T11:36:00.003+09:00

what do i say?

shall i say that i am seriously considering not going to med school so i can go to new york and be with someone i barely know? shall i say i am quite certain that after a long time, i am ready to give my heart fully to someone again? shall i daresay, without fear of being typecast as emo or dramatic, that i have finally found my match? my heart's one true desire?

no, i cannot.

my grandparents cannot be disappointed. my grandmother, most especially, has already bragged to her senior citizen friends that she has a doctor-granddaughter on the way. i cannot simply let her lose face.

and what about ynah - sweet, innocent ynah who waited in the rain outside my house so she could greet me a happy birthday only to find out i wasn't home? what about her heart condition which she refuses to have fixed because "ate tess was to be her cardiologist?" do i just let her die? do i just let her down and give her a referral to another doctor? do i just pray and leave her fate to fate?

and my parents. dad. i'm his golden girl. do i just throw away 19 years of promises to grow up to be a good christian and give back to the world? do i break his heart so i can be with the one who makes my heart swell? do i just leave and send postcards on holidays?

and my friends? niel will be okay. he'll be too busy saving for his piggery and jillian's education to notice my absence. well, that's a lie. he'll be devastated. he'll be mad at me. furious, even. but he loves me too much to hate me. he'll understand. or at least he'll pretend that he does. and orlee? well, he's my orlee so he'll probably want me to go to new york so he can have a place to stay in should he decide to follow me. jude will be in california, so that's a perk. we'll be in different states, but at least have the same currency. and my other friends whose names cannot fit this post, well? what about them? should i just content myself with random idd calls? do i just settle for YM, or skype maybe?

and the philippines. do i leave it in its tattered and distorted shape when i have so fervently vowed to stay here and help save it? after all the moments i've had in the public hospitals that have convinced me to stay here despite the pityful economy, after all the conversations with SOs who were about to lose their loved ones because they didn't have two hundred pesos to buy medicine, after all the patients i've lost and cried over, do i just finally turn my back on my mother land?

i can make arguments. i can say i'll go to new york so i can work, send money to my grandparents (for their medications), tell ynah i have to earn money for medical school. i can say i'm going to new york so i can be a doctor there, establish myself and come back to the philippines when i can be of better help to it. i can even tell myself that by being in new york, i'm actually living up to my dad's expectations. that somehow being in new york is part of god's grander plan for me to conquer the world.

but i just can't. because that would be big, fat, lies. because i won't go there to do any of those things. i don't want to go to new york for advancement in my studies, not for work, not for sight seeing, not for soul searching.

i want to be in new york because thomeo is there. liebe is there. and possibly my glück.

and those are the most dangerous, selfish, honest answers i can offer myself and the world as of the moment.

--
i previously said that there were no more rules. but unfortunately, there are. im too much of me to disregard them.

i'm probably not making any sense, and i will probably regret posting this, but what am i to do?

right now i feel like i belong in the wrong timezone. sue me.

status message

2009-07-03T16:32:00.000+09:00

there are no rules anymore.

press release

2009-06-11T02:45:00.002+09:00

will post something me when i can get the lazy bug outta my system
meanwhile, i leave you with a smile, and a big smooch!

for slimj

2009-05-21T19:50:00.009+09:00

balaki ko, dong
pinaagi sa imong naglutaw
nga mga tudlo
sa akong panit nga

nagbaga

sa kainit
sa adlaw nga mitago luyo
sa mga panganod.

balaan ang kahayag
nga mudapi sa panit
pagkahuman sa pagmugna.

***

Rest
Sweet canary from your unfinished melody
Let the lark carry your symphony
Into the endless night

Fall
Sweet angel to my waiting arms
Let my mortal years bear your longing
For solid ground, and damp earth

Shine
Unnoticed star of the sky
Let your embers lead, light, and deceive
Nocturnal travelers who trek by your light

Throb
Weary soul, beyond the unnoticed star
Beyond the path of the fallen angels
Beyond the lark's symphony

(And maybe then
you can conquer
the DEATH that binds you
to the weight of the flesh)

Claim your freedom
Even with broken wings, fly

Your spirit is a fallen feather
It is as light, and as alone.
Yet it flutters,
And dances with the song of the wind

In the light, you no longer hum a song that is not yours
In the light, you no longer hold the silence of my perdition
In the light, you no longer hide your own shadows

You will not be held back
You will not be brought down
You will soar with love, and only love
To undiscovered paths you have yet to find
On this promising, inifinite
horizon.

-- an answer to John Rey Guadalquiver's Freedom --

--
pictures were illegally lifted from his account

cos 2

2009-04-30T11:26:00.002+09:00

"i never regret being an artist. it's summer all day long!"
-cos zicarelli-

***

i got a hold of gelo's number and we exchanged random sms. was ecstatic for awhile (after all, it is not everyday that you wake up to the text of an international-award winning poet) then, lo and behold, i found his friend cos.

he's crazy, and creative -- a lethal combination in my book. plus, it doesn't hurt that he's italiano.
:P

oh, cos. cos. cos. cos. bat ngayon lang kita nakita? eh di sana noon pa kita na stalk. haha.

cos

2009-04-30T11:13:00.003+09:00

i denounce my devotions to dennis trillo, januar yap, angelo suarez, chiz escudero and jerrold tarog.

from this day forth, i shall be his.

costantino pedro ubaldo marquez zicarelli
wasak ka talaga!
:)

dance

2009-04-26T22:20:00.002+09:00

i am too excited for coherence
let me just sum up the cause in five words
i.danced.with.a.neurosurgeon.

details when i get down from cloud 9.
=]

--
pic lifted from goldensands

inday misyel

2009-03-25T00:13:00.006+09:00

let me tell you a story about a girl named michelle.

well, there's not much to say about her really, besides the fact that she's perfect. she's bubbly, she has impeccable fashion sense, she's brilliant (and has records going back to pre-school to prove it), she's confident, she rocks the guitar, she's a beauty queen, a student leader, her thighs aren't big, plus, she smells really good.

but all those things, no matter how good they look on paper, do not make michelle perfect. what makes her perfect is me. she has me for a friend which makes all her achievements exponentially cooler.

;] kidding aside...

michelle is the type of person whose light glows brighter than everybody else's. she glides through rooms with all heads turned to her because she floats with such an imposing beauty. when she speaks, you listen because at the back of your mind something is telling you that before you is greatness personified.

i'm not really good at character sketching, and the words that i've used to describe her do not do her any justice. so let me end this little tribute with what poor vocabulary i have:

it is rare for a man to meet someone whose greatness does not make others feel inferior. to shine and have others stare at a distance with respect and admiration, to prosper while the rest stands at the sidelines content and proud -- that is a gift possessed only by a handful of blessed men and women.

fortune was on my side when i met you, michelle. i am more than content, more than proud to be a witness to your success.

for what it's worth, i'll always be here -- cheering you on with whatever it is that you'd like to conquer next.

mary michelle zanoria peñaranda
velez college 2009
cum laude

congratulations! love you, xel!

valentines

2009-02-24T21:56:00.005+09:00

feb 13, 2009 11:30pm
nanahi pa sa mga costumes sa pop jazzers. nanguna na'g uli ang mga tawo. nagpabilin si niel kay gahuwat ni kim, si norina gahuwat ni bird. natingala ko nganong ang boy nahibilin man.

11:45pm
sugod nag kapalong ang mga tawong nahibilin, kay lagi puro gipangkapoy sa praktis.

feb 14, 2009 12:04am
boy: "charly, unsa nang orasa?"
charly: 12:04 na
boy: happy valentines, tess.

aw. ana lang.

12:30am
nakatulog na ang boy tupad nako nga padayong nanahi.

1:15am
gipukaw na nako siya kay mamauli na.
boy: magtaxi ra ka?
ako: yeah. kuyog lang siguro ming charly.
boy:pasakyon lang tamo.

island atbang sa sto. rosario
boy: sige na, uli na. gikuha na nako ang plate number.
ako: ikaw diay?
boy: maglakaw ra ko.
ako: ha? maypag niuna nalang kag uli.
boy: okay ra oy. basta kahibaw kong safe ra mong charly. happy valentines.

3:00pm
nangandam na para sa popjazz.

9:00pm
nanayaw na ang popjazzers.

9:15pm
nakuyapan si kaye. gitabang.

9:30pm
nakamata si kaye, ug mingisi sa joke nako nga corny.

9:45
nangaligo na ang mga tawo. nahuyang sa hadlok nga make-up.

10:00pm
gi announce ang winner sa essay writing.

"our winner is from the level three..."
mitalikod ko ug mi-actio'g walk out.

"tan, tess marie"
ug sa way pagduhaduhang nihigda ko sa sawg. nakabati nalang ko nga tanang tawo migakos nako. puro nagsyagit.

gi announce ang winner sa popjazz

"our second runner up is the third presenter"
nanyagit na ang level three kay mao ni ang gitan-aw namo nga threat.
pag announce sa first runner up nga mao ang level four, dili masukod gamit lang sa decibel ang syagit sa mga tawo. estimate ko, 8.0 sa richter ang linog nga nag-gikan sa third floor sa cte kon diin gapundok ang mga wakwak nga nanayaw sa popjazz.

ug sa kagubot sa mga tawo, nakaduol pa gyud si boy. miggakos, ug mihunghong "daog jud ta! happy valentines."

da. nahuman ang adlaw.

meaning of color and your birthday

2009-02-23T23:17:00.002+09:00

just because i have to...

Don 't cheat, if you are honest, this tells the truth. It's pretty good.
Write your answers on a piece of paper, and NO cheating!!
The answers are at the bottom.

1. Which is your favorite color out of: red , black , blue , green , or yellow ?
2. Your first initial?
3. Your month of birth?
4. Which color do you like more, black or white?
5. Name of a person of the same sex as yours.
6. Your favorite number?
7. Do you like Flying or Driving more?
8. Do you like a lake or the ocean more?
9. Write down a wish (a realistic one).

Answers

1. If you chose:
Red - You are alert and your life is full of love.
Black - You are conservative and aggressive.
Green - Your soul is relaxed and you are laid back.
Blue- You are spontaneous and love kisses and affection from the ones you love.
Yellow - You are a very happy person and give good advice to those who are down.
2. If your initial is:
A-K You have a lot of love and friendships in your life.
L-R You try to enjoy your life to the maximum & your love life is soon to blossom.
S-Z&nb sp;You like to help others and your future love life looks very good..
3. If you were born in:
Jan-Mar: The year will go very well for you and you will discover that you fall in love with someone totally unexpected.
April-June: You will have a strong love relationship that will not last long but the memories will last forever.
July-Sep: You will have a great year and will experience a major life-chang ing experience for the good.
Oct-Dec: Your love life will not be great, but eventually you will find your soul mate.
4. If you chose:
Black: Your life will take on a different direction, it will seem hard at the time but will be the best thing for you, and you will be glad for the change.
White: You will have a friend who completely confides in you and would do anything for you, but you may not realize it.
5. This person is your best friend.
6 This is how many close friends you have in your lifetime.
7. If you chose:
Flying: You like adventure.
Driving: You are a laid back person.
8.If you chose:
Lake : You are loyal to your friends and your lover and are very reserved.
Ocean: You are spontaneous and like to please people.
9. This wish will come true only if you repost this in one hour as "meaning of color and your birthday" and it will come true before your next birthday.

press release

2009-02-22T01:54:00.004+09:00

i will be leaving for bogo later today
so i leave y'all with this:

atrial flutter doesn't always
have a pathologic cause.
=)

the sweetest thing

2009-02-19T16:14:00.004+09:00

grand gestures do not necessarily mean a giant billboard professing love or an i love you plastered all over the sky. grand gestures, i believe, are the actions that are measured by the thought and effort that goes into the act.

i was having one of the worst days of my life when moxi died. added to that, i realized i had a hole on my shoe, and while i was crying hysterically, the ribbon from my bun broke off. i stormed out of the classroom feeling bad about the string of misfortunes i was having.

five minutes later, i came back to boy who had a huge grin on his face.

boy: di man nako maayo imong moxi, imo nalang ribbon akong giayo.

he glued the ribbon back to the metal clip and secured it with strips of cartolina ;)

little things like that mean a lot. especially to melodramatic girls like me.

my 25 random things

2009-02-19T15:36:00.004+09:00

i've been tagged so many times and i've ignored it so many times so i'm doing this. well, actually, i'm just really, really bored, so there.

this is a list of 25 random things about me.

25. i think balloons should be on strings not sticks.
24. i don't know how to ride a bike.
23. i am intimidated by writers.
22. i have been inlove with the same guy for four years.
21. i root for the underdog.
20. i think boracay is overrated.
19. i love blowing bubbles.
18. nostalgia is the most familiar feeling to me.
17. i suffer from a cyclothymic personality disorder. (self-diagnosed)
16. i love surprises but i don't know how to react to them.
15. i value good humor more than i value material wealth.
14. i find taho disgusting.
13. i drink carbonated drinks everyday.
12. i watch grey's anatomy religiously.
11. my past four valentines days have been amazing.
10. i love swimming.
9. i suck at spelling.
8. i used to be a sunday shool teacher.
7. i re-sew my t-shirts into new blouses
6. my favorite place in the world is the bookstore.
5. i love the smell of old books.
4. i collect pens.
3. my favorite shift is graveyard because it follows my natural sleep pattern.
2. i am a daddy's girl.
1. i go to the cemetery randomly.

i tag everyone who has had the misfortune of reading this useless thread. ;)

gelo

2009-02-19T14:51:00.004+09:00

he grew out his hair.

god, i love him more.

=)

angelo suarez

i stole the picture from his friendster.

yes, people. i am NOT above friendster. haha.

indulgence

2009-02-19T13:39:00.007+09:00

i was on graveyard shift for three days, and suddenly i was expected to go on morning shift. there is nothing more unstable than a nurse's shift schedule. as i expected, i wasn't able to cope and i slept too late, and i missed duty. and now i am stuck at home, with nothing to do but blog.

*i got this from jkeigh's

1: Type in "[your name] needs" in the Google search:

Tess needs a spanking.

--haha. dirty.

2: Type in "[your name] looks like" in Google seach:

Tess looks like she's daydreaming.

--because i am. always.

3.Type in "[your name] does" in Google search:

Tess does somersaults.

--in my head.

4: Type in "[your name] hates" in Google search:

Tess hates her boots.

--i don't own any.

5: Type in "[your name] goes" or "..has gone" in Google search:

Tess goes moo!

--haha. this is actually the second link the engine gave, but this one's funnier than the first.

6: Type in "[your name] loves" in Google search:

Tess loves fairies.

--weee! and i'd love to turn into one, too!

7: Type in "[your name] eats" in Google search:

Tess eats sh_t.

--i do not! eeew.

8: Type in "[your name] has" in Google search:

Tess has been taking good care of me.

--now i hope Tess can take care of Tess

9: Type in "[your name] died" in Google search:

Tess died from leukemia.

--this is sooo 'endless love' that's okay though, because then a boyfriend has to carry me on his back to the nearest hospital while humming me a tune we both used to sing when we were kids. gah! koreanovelas!

10: Type in "[your name] won't" in Google Search:

Tess won't say I'm in love.

--er. next?

11: Type in "[your name] can't" in Google Search:

Tess can't iceskate.

--well, not yet. but i will. i think.

12: Type in "[your name] will" in Google Search:

Tess will turn up the heat.

--sssssssttt.. scorching!

13. Type in "[your name] got" in Google Search:

Tess got totally bashed playing soccer last night.

--with gams. haha.

14. Type in "[your name] asked" in Google Search:

Tess asked "are there any parenting courses?"

--for, um. secret. haha.

15. Type in "[your name] saw" in Google Search:

Tess saw my pee pee.

--i am not a voyeur. promise.

16. Type in "[your name] writes" in Google Search:

Tess writes to Angel, begging him to rescue her.

--from myself?

17. Type in "[your name] left" in Google Search:

Tess left the band shortly after the American tour to try the music business solo.

--yeah, because i hear the triangle is big these days.

18. Type in "[your name] rode" in Google Search:

Tess rode out at my barn and practiced keeping her reins bridged while galloping.

--okay.

19. Type in "[your name] opens" in Google Search:

Tess opens it to reveal a green dress with a note

--bulagaan number, anyone?

20. Type in "[your name] means" in Google Search:

Tess means harvester.

--of?

dR | this is how i do it

2009-02-09T14:09:00.004+09:00

in the classroom, the period is about to end

sir: so, yeah. i won't be here for the next coupl'a days. i have things to do for the cas days. so now, before i go, let's have our french lesson for the day. what do you wanna learn?

girl: sir? um. can you translate something for me?

sir: sure, sure. what is it?

girl: i heard someone say it. um, i'm not really sure. i think it's "ne ten va pa?"

sir: did you get the spelling?

girl:no, sir. i only heard it.

teacher scribbles something on the board.

ne ten va pa

sir: i think this is what you heard.

the teacher smiles.

the rest of the class: sir, unsa diay ipasabot, sir?

sir: it means don't go.

bow. =]

--
pic stolen from kitsuneki

buh-bye, moxi

2009-01-30T00:04:00.002+09:00

too depressed to give details.
moxi, my laptop, is dead.
along with 3 years' worth of my life.

stupid viral infection.

bubbles

2009-01-25T21:12:00.006+09:00

one | bubble girl

as you go higher in nursing theory, you cease to study the normal and dwell on the abnormal and the procedures done to correct these deviations.

last week, my clinical instructor was discussing about "the silent killers" -- aneurysms.

she told us the story of a woman who died while taking a leak. her cerebral aneurysm ruptured due to the increased intracranial pressure from the increased intra-abdominal pressure when she sat on her toilet.

she probably didn't even know she had a cerebral aneurysm. she probably woke up that morning angry because of what happened the night before, probably was worried about her mortgage and the bills that have piled up on the corner. she was probably thinking about what to cook for breakfast, and she was probably rechecking the grocery list in her head. she woke up that day not knowing she was gonna make her husband a widower and her kids motherless.

that image has been haunting me for a week now. it makes me think of just how fragile life actually is. things we don't think twice about could actually cause us our lives.

i didn't pee for one day because i had a headache. dreading that i actually have an aneurysm, i was afraid to sit on the toilet and die.

but the bladder can only take too much.

i sat on that toilet, and smiled -- relieved and grateful that my silly "aneurysm scare"can be managed with mefenamic acid and that i get to blow silly bubbles for taking little risks.

two | living in a bubble

or dancing while in it.

i always take my mp4 player with me. that way, i get to zone out when i'm travelling or when i want to be excused from useless chatter. but mostly, i bring it with me so i can walk to my own background music.

i was at the bookstore the other day, and while i was browsing over titles, i couldn't help but dance. beyonce was singing "diva is the female version of the hustler, of the, of the hustler" and i was skimming over a book entitled Filthy Shakespeare. i was in my bubble, and i was dancing in it.

but the problem with living in a bubble is that you stay disconnected with the people outside of it. the song ended and then i heard a chuckle.

mr. 40-ish american dude was staring at me, laughing.

so i popped my bubble and took my bubble butt out of that bookstore faster than you can say "i am sasha fierce"

three | stuck in a bubble

i'm too exhausted to even tell this story again. i've been in and out of this bubble, i don't even know what it feels like not to have this in my life.

it's warm. and cold. and comforting. and scary. it's my bubble. it's his. it's ours.

the bubble of all bubbles. the bubble with eternal layers. the bubble that never leaves.

four | don't burst my bubble

corridor

girl: good afternoon, ma'am! naa si sir dave sa faculty room?
edna: yes, yes.

outside the faculty room, he waits smiling
sir: i was about to go to the social hall but i heard you say my name

da. mao ka! haha! =]

five | official statement

"yes, this is the year of bubbles and wishes.
but most of all, of wishes coming true."

--
love and respect for nxskynet

wishes

2009-01-19T05:19:00.017+09:00

bubbles are magical. from a bottle of liquid, you blow and create globes that seem to
appear out of nowhere. and just when you see
the rainbow trapped in the tiny spheres, the magical, colorful globes disappear into the air.
i'd like to think that each bubble transforms itself into a more potent kind of magic --
the invisible kind that simply weaves itself into the universe
so that the elements, pixie dust included, would conspire
to make your wishes come true.

this year,
i blow bubbles for:

a. the strength to leave.

people leave all the time. mostly, they leave me. they travel. migrate. fall inlove. get jobs. have babies. they write, and laugh, and take adventures. they thrive and they grow while i sit in the corner moping because i was left.

i do not want to be weighed down my my sadness, and my anger. i do not want to always be the one who gets stuck with the memories and the abandonment issues. i have wasted too much time, energy and love on being insecure. i'm tired of holding on to one way relationships. i will not be left behind anymore. i refuse to be stuck.

i want to move. i wish to leave the weight. and the dark cloud. because i want to run. as fast as i can.

and finally, be free.

b. faith in love

and waiting for it to ripen.

c. a car

because i want to turn my stereo on and drive wherever the road leads me.

d. poetry

to write it and read it.

the past year, i haven't written much. (besides my NCP's that is) i have neglected my poetry far too long. i know it. i think it knows it, too. that is why i am determined to make time for poetry. if not to write it, then to read it. and in turn, live it.

everybody needs poetry in their lives.

e. my films

my first baby, Retaso, won the Egoy Awards last film festival season. it was my debut as a screen writer, director and cinematographer. but most importantly, retaso was the first baby of my art group, Dreamers Inc.

much has happened since then. the dreamers have not convened since. jet has moved to NZ. matt, judy, charly, rara and insik have been transferred to a different batch. gil, stefan and jen to a different section. buzon to a different school. however, we found another group of filmmakers who were willing to film the concepts and scripts the dreamers came up with. this month alone, two screenplays have been penned by moi, one co-written by one of my favorite people, judy.

"amen" has already been shot and edited, and "lemonisto" is still on the works.

this makes me happy. filming makes me happy. writing makes me happy. and i want to be happier this year. so this year i wish for more screenplays to be written. more films to be made. more awards to be owned. and more opportunities to explore the mysterious and powerful realm of filmmaking.

f. dave reroma

ah, je suis amoreux.
but then again, i'm me so don't take my word for it.
=]

this is the year of bubbles and wishes.
and most of all, wishes coming true.

--
love and respect for orlee, dA, insik, jet.

booyah!

2009-01-19T05:03:00.002+09:00

so i finally found a new template. i think it's cool. me and my cat. or is it cheetah? or maybe even a boy with a tail. bah! details. i can't be bothered with details anymore.

but, yeah. i found my template. and i love it.

that's all.

oh, ged

2008-12-13T22:18:00.008+09:00

the only reason why i open my lappy
is to read this:

Gahapon
Gipangutana ko nimo
Kung tambok na kaayo ka.
Kung musulti ko sa tinuod
Masakitan ka.
Kung mulimod ko,
Muingon ka
Nga namakak ko.
Mao kini ang akong tubag
Sa pagkataas na sa panahon
Nga anaa ko sa imong kiliran
Saksi ko sa pagsubay nimo sa
X, XL, XXL
Ug kung madungagan pa
Ang mga letra,
Sa umaabot nga mga adlaw,
Ania ra gihapon ko
Sa imong kiliran
Ug kana
Di na kinahanglan
Ipangutana pa.

--Bobby Calderon
Mapun-an Man ang mga Letra

***

i would've met him last faigao
but me being a student nurse prevented me to do so.

so for my christmas wish (to be fulfilled by my "literary" friends)
pul-leez introduce me to the fascinating man who penned
my favorite balak.

=]

***

kiben,
literary boyfriend diay kang ate karla ha!
bantog ra nga "mubo pas iyang sayal imong mga balak"
hahaha!
imo nang linya,
dili akoa.

date night and random blurbs

2008-12-12T17:01:00.009+09:00

date night.

or so i thought.

after all this time,
nothing has changed.

the hype of the anticipation,
the hope that this time
you'd actually show up,
still feels like acid when you say

"i'm sorry. change of plans"

***

duk,
thanks for always standing by.
and for always being ready
when he fails.

***

man 1: i was first

man 2: i am now

man 1: i have a palanca

man 2: i speak french

man 1: im taller

man 2: im younger

man 1: she loves me

man 2: im single

man 1: oh

***

man 1: i was first

man 2: i am now

man 1: i make her happy

man 2: i make her laugh

man 1: im taller

man 2: im younger

man 1: i speak correct english

man 2: i dance

man 1: she loves me

man 2: i love her

man 1: i love her more

man 2: im single

man 1: oh

***

im working on 2 short films as of the moment.
this time, dreamers inc. will be
collaborationg with
bp productions.

keeping my fingers crossed
and wishing
that i still have enough pixie dust
to last me the film festival season.

***

and by the way,
"dream" in french
is way too coincidental
to be funny.

yipee!!!

2008-10-14T21:24:00.004+09:00

so yeah, this blog's been boring and emo-tis-tic lately
but just to turn things around

FAIGAO FELLOWS BARED

The FREEMAN copy editor Maria Eleanor Valeros and columnist Maddie Llacer were among the 15 writers who were chosen as fellows of the upcoming 25th Cornelio Faigao Annual Writers Workshop of Cebu to be held on October 17 to19 at the University of San Carlos Retreat House.

Of the 15 fellows, 13 are from Cebu City and two are from other cities in Region 7.

Aside from Valeros and Llacer, among the 13 fellows who are from Cebu City are Jona Bering, Bobby Cabangon, Charmaine Carreon, Pete Zaesar Galula, Jude Gitamondoc, Dennis Judilla, Rhodora Magan, Neile Genica Mijares, Tez Marie Tan, Lilia Tio, and Cindy Velasquez.

Joining them from out of town are Sonia Sygaco from Dumaguete City and Elmer Agustin from Tacloban City.

Panelists for this year’s workshop are award-winning writers Resil B. Mojares, Merlie Alunan, and Adonis Durado; and Erlinda Alburo, who will serve as workshop director.

An outreach program of the USC through the Cebuano Studies Center, the workshop started in 1984 has served as training ground for around 250 creative writers writing in English and Cebuano not only in Cebu but also in other Cebuano-speaking parts of the country.

yipee!!!
things are starting to look up.
thank You, You up there..

just int time.

:D
--
lifted from freeman

oh, bollocks

2008-10-06T11:18:00.003+09:00

PRELUDE

everyday, since i was in third grade, i was always first to arrive -- both in class, and in school.

in elementary, i used to say good morning to the graveyard shift guard who refused to let me in the building until he was sure that at least it was 6:00am.

in highschool, i was one of the only two people who had the key to the school gate, and the only one to have the key to the classroom. one might say, classes couldn't have been conducted if i were to call in sick.

now, in college, i make sure to beat the girls who lived in the dormitory behind the school.

i want to always be first in class. not because i have the obsession to always be first, but because i want to relish that moment -- a moment too flickering that it will soon be stolen from me as soon as someone else breathes the same air inside the classroom.

i get up early so i can sit on the teacher's table and face all the empty chairs that will be occupied in an hour or so. i make a mental roll call of the faces who will soon occupy the chairs and remember the stories they have yet to tell. i take the time to feel the quiet, and listen to the hum of the sunlight that apparently, only i can hear. i revel in the clamness, the softness of the light that creeps from the dusty window, the song from the bird perched on the tree beside my classroom window, the only time i get to hear myself think.

but all has been spoiled for me.

i am too scared to be alone now... to ashamed of what i might actually hear if i do listen to what i refused to hear for months... that of the silence so deafening. the ultimate sound of abandonment.

***

i was supposed to be in school today. and i was planning to sit in class and lose myself in another discussion about the complications of pregnancy. but on my way to school, like an overdue impulse, i knocked on the handle too soon, signaling the driver to stop. i was somewhere near stc, and i found myself walking. to nowhere in particular. the morning air was cold - maybe even frigid, but it didn't seem to bother me. i had this bounce in my step, an unfamiliar warmth in my chest. in a long, long time, i finally felt what it was to breathe again.

***

over the course of my getting a nursing cap, i had this theory locked up in my head. i thought that i'd really appreciate the essence of nursing when i get to be in the delivery room -- the thought of helping a woman give birth, the thought of being one of the few people to see a new life take in its first breath -- i thought id never be happier.

seems like theory is supposed to be left in textbooks afterall.

i couldn't see love. couldn't see the miracle i was hoping to see. none of the warm, fuzzy feelings i expected to attack me once i saw the baby's head come out.

there was too much pain. TOO much suffering.

love and all those supposedly beautiful things like hope and happiness, well, they sort of became obsolete.

what is wrong with me? have i become this cynical? to see pain, touch it, embrace it, amd forget about love? why?

is it because i am too familiar with pain? or is it because i've always been pained when i loved?

god. don't even get me started about the operating room.

***

ive been thinking about death more lately. maybe it was brought on by ate rachelle's death, or maybe...

i don't know really.

i keep preparing for the worst. its like i know ive fallen into a deep abyss but i havent hit the bottom yet, so i steady myself for the final blow.

i think i need help. my mom won't believe it, for sure. she'll think i've come up with another scheme to make our lives just a little bit more difficult. i can't tell dad either because he'll totally freak out. but i do know that i really need help. i can't go on like this. i refuse to totally go mental.

***

CONCLUSION

im scared. i am too incapacitated to think clearly. my ditching school wasn't healthy at all. too much time to think.

and by now i know myself too much to know that i am capable of doing stupid things.

***

EPILOGUE

SPY!!

WHEREVER THE HELL YOU ARE,

TAKE ME WITH YOU.

I JUST CAN'T ANYMORE.

so, yes

2008-09-03T23:45:00.002+09:00

the fire is starting to grow again

meanwhile,

brandi

that's all

mao na ni

2008-08-05T19:43:00.006+09:00

it has been so long since i last went online because i've recently adjusted my priorities to

1. school
2. school

and

3. school

last night, out of my fear of losing my connection to the netizens, i went online. he was online, too.

so we started talking. (as superheroes usually do) i told him how i was doing my share of life saving here in cebu, while he talked about his stint as life saver there, in michigan.

then, he said this...

i felt ashamed. nauseated, even. i felt unworthy of such praise.

so much has changed. i have allowed myself to fade. i do not know how i arrived here. i feel like a stranger in my own skin. my lashes feel different. my palms, cleaner than i remember. they do not carry with them traces of ink, or shadows of my rhyme.

my hands are hands that touch other hands in an effort to heal. my feet are feet that are always running because my brain is the brain that is constantly reminded of how a split second can cause someone his life.

the fire, my fire, has died. that is the truth.

tisa girl: ambot. mura naman kog naoplok. muadto kog jollibee, unya akong orderon kay methyldopa, takeout. or matog ko nga magyawyaw og isosorbide mononitrate.
buzz boy: at least kana imong gipangyawyaw, makatabang nag salbar og kinabuhi.

perhaps.

but i must say this... though i've never felt more inlove with nursing, i have never felt more abandoned, either.

mabalik pa kaha nako ang duga sa arte nga akong giusikusikan sa dihang akong gipalatay ang lana ni nightingale sa akong ugat? ambot. ganahan ko mabalik ang di masabtang kagutom para malunod sa tinta. katong mutuok nga hangin nga mutabon nako kon dili ko mubasa sa mga pulong sa mga magbabalak ug mga manunulat nga milusot pag impyerno aron mukatay ang ilang ritmo diri sa akong utok nga lutaw.

balik tawn. malooy mo.

i want to be tez again. i want to dream, write, read, laugh, love and celebrate the inadequacy of the human race.

di na ko ganahan mag nars ra. gusto ko mubalik pagkapayter. ganahan ko mulupad balik. kahibaw ka unsaon? tabangi ko, bi.

medic

2008-07-27T20:09:00.005+09:00

my name looks so much better when your surname is attached to it

wait for me, doki

;]

done

2008-07-27T17:24:00.002+09:00

taking a page from bryanboy,

HOW DOES THIS MAKE YOU FEEL?

oh, gawd

2008-07-22T00:55:00.002+09:00

i am in dire need of a new blog skin
the ones online aren't gonna cut it this time, i'm afraid.

i want a black and white theme
the ones available online are either too tacky, or too boring.

i want balloons, rain, angel wings and stars in my layout
[without the words broken, alone, or shattered, thank you very much]

i want my own techie.

--
a totally unnecessary post.

quick hits

2008-07-20T20:33:00.006+09:00

i know i've been neglecting this blog, but i swear, i have valid reasons.

1. duty

i've been taking good care of mommies and their babies ;]

2. sleep

or should i say the lack thereof?

3. and i really need not put a heading

--
more details on number one, soon.
and oh, photo number 1 is published with consent from the parents.
photo 2 lifted from lithiel's.

updates

2008-06-29T20:22:00.010+09:00

i've been out of circulation lately (nothing new there) because my schedule has gone bonkers (nothing new there, either)

this is an update for the few remaining bored people who still happen to check this excitement-devoid blog :D

* june 13, 2008, 8am-12nn

i had my capping. i didn't think i'd feel all tingly, but man, i got emotional towards the end. especailly when i saw my grandmamas tear up when they saw their eldest (and no doubt, prettiest) grandchild with a white cap perched on top of her pretty head. (no narcissim there, huh)

*middle note: today
apparently, i have a new penchant for parentheses.

*june 13, 2008, 3pm-12mn

i went to my girls' capping ceremony at guada, then treated them to dinner.

first time, after graduation, that the seven of us met and ate a full meal without any parent yelling "asa naman ka?" yeah, we're that old. lol

shoutout to jewella: we missed youuuu!! you have to come see me soon. and yeah, hi to all your new friends at watts! :D

*june 16, 2008

everybody was shocked to learn that we were re-sectioned. i was put in a new section -- away from family. because of that, i've lost weight, lost a fair amount of sleep. and hair. and my laughter is somehow hollow-er. i miss you, family.

*june 23-28, 2008

i went on duty with my cap. got apprehended by doctors, scolded by the nurse - on- duty and loved by my patients.

for a week, i come home to an empty house. everybody is asleep, the lights are turned off, and mariah is on the radio. i read the newspaper at night, laugh at how wrong my horoscope is, take a bath, scrub myself until it hurts, wash my hair twice and end up thinking i still smell like puke. i wake up at 8 and everybody has gone to school. only the two yayas are left and all they want to talk about is the latest episode of my girl. i can't relate. so instead i lock myself in my room, turn the radio and air conditioning on, and make my requirements. i write my nursing care plans, study mechanisms of action of drugs, and get ready for duty.

i know it's sad.

i go on duty. stay alert for the endorsement. i try to keep up with the outgoing nurse with a barely audible voice. census 31, a1, tpr q4, with pnss number 5 at 30, with piggyback a and b. with ngt. 1,800 k cal per day in six equal feedings. for serum crea, cbc, u/a, s/e. nosebleed. i wear my mask, get inside the ward, greet my patient, and do nursing stuff. doctor comes in for rounds. scolds me for iv regulation. which isn't my fault, but the previous nurse's. explain myself. get scolded more, until SO defends me. doctor shuts up. orders time tape. spend eight hours in the ward. familiarize charts. plots vs. gives medications. injects insulin. at ten, i take off my cap, say goodnight to my patients. turn my back, and hear "goodnight pud, tess. salamat kaayo, ha."

that's magical.

*june 23, 2008

we made up. coz he was scolded by a doctor. and i felt bad for him. and he was on DABDA until i came. then he smiled. and then i hugged him. and yes, the oxygen is back in business. hahaha!

this post probably doesn't make any sense to most of you. but that's what my life has been like lately. i spend most of my waking hours with sick people, i don't even know how to act around healthy people anymore. i buy load for my sun and globe sims but do not find time to text or call. my social life is non-existent, but at the end of everyday for one week, i have slept soundly. even when i do murmur isosorbide mononitrate :)

my only one

2008-06-09T15:58:00.004+09:00

you don't have to worry about me choosing the wrong man
i have you as my model
and i assure you, dad, you raised the bar way up there...

^_^

papa

2008-06-09T15:29:00.005+09:00

It matters not that Time has shed
His thawless snow upon your head,
For he maintains, with wondrous art,
Perpetual summer in your heart.

~ William Hamilton Hayne

***

i know it's not yet father's day
but you deserve this post nonetheless

i miss you papa
and even though it has been eleven years
since i spent father's day with you
it still does not tame the ferocity of my love

--
picture of baby me and papa when he turned 25

letters

2008-06-03T11:35:00.007+09:00

gee,

you know that feeling you get when you're in a room, and a song is playing, so you sing along with it, you go to the next room where you can't hear the song and you still keep singing, and when you go back to the room where the song is playing, you find out you're still in perfect timing? that's the feeling i get when i'm with you.

i've known you since we hit puberty -- saw you commit acts of immorality (even lead you to some), shared to you stories no one needed to hear, cried with you when we watched crappy, c-listed old tagalog movies, wore "elephant" with you.

you saw my triumphs and defeat, my happy days, and my gloomy ones.

you were the first to learn my power to control the weather, and the first to taste the emptiness my kind of rain brought.

you were korina, and i was kris. you were rough, and i was delicate. you were the fighter, and i was the lover. you were Listener, and i was Story Teller.

it has been so long since we've melted together, and i miss you more and more everyday.

we will always be the lead characters of a storybook that only we could read.

i have never stopped calling you my bestfriend.

i love you gee! see you soon!

***

neutron,

where shall i start?

shall i start by saying i am sorry? for all the things i did and did not do. for rejecting you. for treating you the way i did. for thinking i was too good for you. for hurting you over and over again. for pushing you just for the sake of knowing how far you were willing to bend to prove yourself to me. for saying "thank you" when you said "i love you." for making your parents love me. for having your dad remind you of me every chance he gets. for not giving you a chance. for taking advantage of your madness.

or should i start by saying i miss you? and the mismatched socks you wear to school. the blue back pack where i once scribbled my name in red ink. the mole you have on the left side of your jaw. the songs you attempt to sing to me. the love letters you wrote in invisible ink. the red box with the beautiful broken glass. and the ten tiny hugs in our interlocked digitals.

you shouldn't have said the things you said to me the other night. and we shouldn't have done what we did.

your girlfriend deserves more loyalty from you.

i wasted our shot at romance. we both should get a kick on our heads. we're not over neutron, because we never began.

***

mayad studios,

please sponsor my wedding video (should i ever marry). please do this kind of video. no big drama. no theatrics. none of gary v singing how did you know. just a girl, a boy, a dog and jack johnson. yebaaaa!! =)

***

rad,

asa na imong pistons? hahaha!

***

jude,

i can't wait to hug you tomorrow!

--
i have dirt to spill, and i don't mean cnu - cn comfort room kind of dirt. i mean mananga-dump-site-river-maria-cacao-killing-myth kind of dirt. better bring 'em dusting materials.

spyder

2008-06-03T11:12:00.003+09:00

i was in iloilo when your mom sent me a message.

"day, hindi ba nagtxt si francis sayo? tatlong araw na xang hindi umuuwi."

we talked about this. about just disappearing. we talked about just one day boarding a train. about exploring everything this universe has to offer. about just leaving everything without a word. without warning. about having the greatest adventure before we turn 21. about finding love before 40. about chasing that thing we lost.

i guess you felt it was time.

"tita, d ko po alam. ndi na po kc nagttxt un skin. mahal po kc ang internatl txt. cge lng po, pag ngparamdam un, ssbhin ko po sa nyo"

spy,

this is to hoping you still read me. i miss you.
wherever you are, take care of that little star we caught on that rainy day.

come home soon. come back to me.

--
your mom is worried sick. but i know you'll be okay.
we always turn out okay.

*credits: riob

before i go

2008-05-29T11:04:00.004+09:00

i'm leaving for iloilo tonight, but just before i leave, i wanna say

thank you rap!
thank you orls!

last night was the best!

all together now,

ever thine
ever mine
ever ours

*background music: fergie

--
more details when i get back!

status quo

2008-05-19T17:41:00.004+09:00

the past few days have been crucial to my sense of well-being. so many things have happened that have both shaken and strengthened my sense of self.

this is a thread of some of the many trivial and vital events that have shaped my current homeostasis.

***

" a glimpse is cruel
for those who are destined
for darkness"

it's a stanza from one of judy's poem and like most of her art, it has left me thinking about how much i miss being inebriated with my ink.

sir janua r once said that if i wake up in the morning and all i can think about is writing, then i am a writer. to him i ask, is thinking about writing ever enough? don't i have to actually write something to call myself a follower of the craft?

i find myself thinking about my pen, all of the time. but my writer-ship ends there. my ink has remained in my pen. my papers have accumulated dust. and stories that haunt me, simply leave me just as they had found me.

should i have the audacity to proclaim myself a writer even if my muses have long gone? even if i do not know when they shall return? if they shall return?

and if i am no longer a writer, then what am i?

as of now, i am a writer who has not written. i am a writer who no longer writes.

***

i used to think that taking up nursing, as a c(o)urse, was the biggest betrayal, biggest error i've ever committed. but lately, as i find myself writing my patients' progress notes, i've come to realize how much i have fallen for this path. it has nothing to do with the unreasonably gorgeous doctors that patrol the wards (all though it doesn't hurt), it doesn't have anything to do with the security of knowing i will have a job no matter what happens. it has everything to do with the feeling i get when at the end of my shift, my patients call me by my name, and say thank you.

it may seem as a selfish reason, but it is a reason that justifies the eight hour long process of cleaning and dusting, assessment, therapeutic communication, medical intervention, and the every now and then nags of the angry and underpaid staff nurse. it is the reason why i put up with having to write down countless drug studies and nursing care plans everynight. it is the only reason that's keeping me fueled to wake up when the rest of the city is still sleeping.

for the first time in two years, i am proud to say, i am a nurse.

***

i read manang's last article as the editor-in-chief of velez college's official student publication, vital signs. it was heartfelt, poignant and candid. she wrote about how a patient's inability to pay for hospitalization led her condition to get worse.

my biggest worry wasn't that incidents like that happen. my biggest worry is that stories like that do not even surprise me anymore.

i am a student of a state university. i hold my clinical duty in the public hospitals where during endorsement of the case, you are also endorsed to the microcosm of the philippines' rotting system.

imagine having to say hello to your patient, and having to squish a giant roach at the same time. imagine seeing two (sometimes three) post-partum mothers share a bunk in the ward. imagine seeing a new born baby lying beside a person with a suspiciously reverberating cough. imagine having to listen to the staff nurse say that your patient has left the hospital against medical advice because he did not have one hundred twenty pesos to pay for his hospitalization. imagine having to see a one year old baby with hepatomegaly over-staying in the reverse-isolation room because his parents did not have enough money to pay for his discharge. imagine having to be surrounded by these stories day in and day out.

no wonder most of the public hospital staff have become distant to their patients. desensitization is the only way one can survive in these kinds of hospitals. because if we public servers were to remain one with our hearts, the pain would kill us.

***

a statement for you:

if you like me, then you like me.
i shouldn't have to remind you why you do,
and i shouldn't have to constantly prove my worth.

you're not that cute. lol

***

"children need to survive themselves"

my nutrition class professor was actually attempting to say that children needed to survive by themselves; that children needed to learn to be independent to appreciate the many good things in life. but because of her grammatical lapse, i realized, that in a sense, i do need to survive myself.

i am my biggest foe, my greatest downfall. i scar myself, hurt myself just to follow shadows that i need not follow; force myself to morph into something i am not.

i am my toughest juror. i judge myself not by the things that i am not, but by the things that i am.

i am my own setback. i am my own jailer. i am my own demon.

but i also know now that i am my own salvation. i know that my survival lies within the strength that is in me to struggle against having dreams stepped on. i know that i can survive myself only if i can truly love me, without hesitation or doubt.

i am my own victory.

***

had i not learned the value of tithing, i wouldn't be with you.
(a stupid joke inspired by another media man's attempt at testimonials. lol)

;}

***

ako ang yuta nga naughan
sa singot nga nitulo sa agtang
ni kain sa iyang pagkupog
sa nigahi nga lapuk

ako ang yuta nga nisuyop
sa dugo nga nisidlit gikan
sa liog ni abel, kon diin
milanog ang tingog sa kasakit

ako ang yuta nga gitunlo sa
Amahang nisaksi sa pagkitil
sa dugo sa iyang dugo,
sa unod sa iyang unod

ako ang yuta nga naughan,
yuta nga di katamnan,
ako ang yuta nga gikalimtan
sa kilid sa eden

--
inspired by my night with jube and tey
and the other poets at t's nest
for cegp's eat your words: a poet's view on the philippine rice crisis

a prayer

2008-05-04T19:12:00.010+09:00

Lord,

i know i hardly articulate my faith,
and sometimes, i fail to recognize You as
my ultimate driving force

You have been faithful
to Your promises
and You have never abandoned me

i come to you now
burdened by all that is happening

i am troubled and confused

but i have faith
that You will do miracles for me now
as You have done so in the past

Abba,

i surrender all.

--

Still
words and music by Reuben Morgan

Hide me now
Under your wings
Cover me
within Your mighty hand

When the oceans rise and thunders roar
I will soar with you above the storm
Father you are king over the flood
I will be still and know you are God

Find rest my soul
In Christ alone
Know His power
In quietness and trust

At Long Last

2008-05-01T13:41:00.018+09:00

pastor: mam, what happened to your blog?

me: dead. i can't write anymore. can't blog anymore. it's dead.
pastor: well, good for you that Jesus has a habit of resurrecting the dead.

:D

pastor centino, (my pastor/fan boi) is the head pastor of pc. it's a church of around five hundred. and even in that big a church attendance, he still finds time to lurk here and see how i'm doing.

if that's not love, i dunno what is.

***

i make no excuses for having failed to update this blog. yes, i have been buried in school work, and i have been daydreaming more and more lately, but these things have not stopped me before.

this is the real reason why i have been out of circulation for the past month or so:

random day with papa

father-daughter date

my dad came home on the last day of duty. and we've been doing major catch-up hugs, and yes, we've been having our fair share of tear-jerking moments. my dad is an ofw, and i only get to be with him for 40 days in one year. the happiest 40 days of my year.

it's just different when papa is here. it feels like everything is where it should be.

***

i've been spending all the beautiful summer days imprisoned in my classroom. it's almost capping time, and our clinical instructors have been ruthless. we have exams everyday, return demonstrations left and right. i'm sleep deprived, broke, and information overloaded. but if there is something that's making summer class worth it, it is this...

tez with br

p.s.
don't tell mother :D

***

from now on, i shall celebrate the 4th of apriL as easter.
ang araw ng muling pagkabuhay, indeed.

***

kon ang usa ka magbabalak,
naughan na sa iyang arte,
aduna pa ba siyay katungod
nga mutawag sa iyang kaugalingon
nga magbabalak?

kon ang usa ka manunulat
mitahak og agi nga nahilayo
sa iyang dagang,
usa pa ba siya ka manunulat?

o gibaligya na ba niya ang iyang kalag?

gihigop na ba niya ang la nga hilo
nga mao ang panginabuhi sa kalibutang
wala niya gidamgo?

***

tez and br, pedia ward

3am, ccmc, pedia-ward

mr. ci: hala, katulgon lagi ka karon. karon na nuon ka naluya nga sa last two days sa noc duty, ikaw may high kaayo.
me: di man ko katulgon sir. nocturnal baya ko. na sad lang ko kay last duty na gali, wala pa gyud mi nagkita.
mr. ci: kay?
me: sayo man siya nisaka sa female surgical ward.

after 10 mins..

gams: tez, naa kay bisita.
me: hala! nanaog lagi ka!
br: gisugo man kong sir wil. ipahatag kuno ni nimo.

letter reads:

tez,
akong gift nimo o.
para dili na ka masad.

luv,
Sir Wil

thank you sir wil! luv u! hehe..

***

tez with orlee
03/10/07

til maggots feast on our flesh,
til our bones get pulverized into ashes,
til we become one with the earth,
i swear before my grandparents' bones
you will always be my orlee.

i can never say this enough,
thank you for the friendship.

i love you, orls!

***

"the people fear time,
but time fears the pyramids."

py and ram, forever ♥

***

buzz boy

i've been missing you dear friend,
and all your quirky stories,
your goofy laugh
and even goofier smile.

in that land, where you trek
icy ground,
may my love warm you,
for seasons to come.

tisa girl misses buzz boy

***

from rakistangnars' queendom

it's not everyday that mere mortals are graced by a goddess' warmth.
but to be proclaimed as a "virtual sibling" is an honor i was not prepared for.

***

outside national bookstore, mango
12/15/07

ate rain: awa lagi. ingon bitaw ko kaila gyud ko nimo. maulaw lang gyud ko muduol kay basin dili ka managad nako ba.
me: waaaaahh (sabay hug)

ate rain

ate rain,

i put off writing about you for as long as i could.
it is because i could not think of enough words to explain how extremely imposing and arresting your beauty was when i met you.

(that and the fact that i may have come off as a total pervert since i kept hugging you. haha.)

i loved you when i read you the first time.
i loved you when you spoke of trading your heels to march down the streets with a placard on your left hand.
i loved you when you wrote about your Golden Boy.
i loved you when you showed the world your madness.
i loved you when you shared your conquests of the fifth-extremities.

and i have not stopped loving you, dear ate.

you are the only one who can take the obscenely erotic and transform it
into the purest form of poetry.
and the only one who can seem tough on paper,
but speak surprisingly gentle in flesh.

the night we met was the real first time i realized what humility was.

***

pray for my soul.
my back door is about to be devirginized by a piece of rubber.
nurses call it enema.
i call it torture.

***

jang

you were my literature professor.
now, you are her lover.

and i am proud to say,
i am perfectly fine with that.

:D

***

"ma frustrated lang gyud ko. mubasa ko about your pain because of that mr. anonymous or whoever, and i can't do anything about it. ingna ko kinsa na siya beh, kay sa pagbun-og lang ba"

-you know who you are-

***

when i am in trouble, i find strength in my Lord,
and i find courage in the people He has provided for me.

one of them said this:

"we don't have a rich foreigner supporting this church.
we only have the Son of a Jewish carpenter."
-ptr. n-

and for seventeen years, He has been doing more than enough.

***

undo: gimingaw na ko'g naay kaholding hands.
ako: yeah, whatever.

haha. moving on.

***

i just realized how much i missed blogging.
next time i do a hiatus again, beloved,
i give you the right to pester me.
again.

:D

more soon.

--
yes.
Jesus resurrects.

haburdee

2008-03-13T00:12:00.004+09:00

happy eighteenth to me!

i can't blog properly as of the moment because my poor lappy is at the repair shop.

i'm stuck to hitching net access from my sister's oldschool desktop as of print time.

no wi-fi for me. or downloading. or uploading.

you get the picture.

anyhoo, i wanna give the biggest shout out to all the people who remembered.

i love you all!!!

xoxo

severed connections

2008-03-07T17:48:00.003+09:00

computers are overrated.

sure, they make our work easier, they make business transactions go faster, they even make time zones seem insignificant. there are limitless possibilities when we talk about computer technology and yes, we can list a lot of beautiful things we have achieved because of computers.

but what we rarely see is how it has corrupted our sense of humanity.

i'm not talking about debauchery in the form of porn, or abuse of the freedom of speech through blogs. we are already painfully aware of those scenarios. what i am most concerned about is the effects of computer on our perceptions of relationships and interaction.

we have become a society that is tolerant on becoming impersonal in all things. we do not submit handwritten reports anymore. we send electronic mails. we do not conduct face to face business, we have electronic databases and the internet to do our bidding. we have emoticons taking the place of real handshakes and human touch. friendships are formed through the internet, relationships are harbored through invisible lines connecting coasts. we have scholarships and overseas education becoming more available through the world wide web.

we may be a more practical generation, but no doubt we have become a detached one.

what ever happened to the good old times when people talked personally? or grandmothers held their grandkids? or partners fought face to face? or made up in person? (should i dare say, made love in person?)

the passion has vanished.

i bet a lot of people today do not even know how the paper against your hand feels when you are writing a love letter, or how ink smells when it has dried on your fingertips... how the palms feel when you are crumpling another draft, how a real embrace should be given, how an old school interview is done, how to meet people and become friends.

all the magic is gone, and yet we're too busy checking who has viewed us on friendster.

--
note: ms. len, this is like 4 days late or sumthing, but well, thanks for still accepting this. lol.
photocredits: stolen from Ro

i know

2008-03-04T23:29:00.003+09:00

i know that it's weird that i have sad-sob-sob posts and yet have this new positive template.

well, it's because i remembered what i said when i heard the first fire cracker of this year explode.

i promised myself that this year, i will strive to be happy. though my family is going through very trying times right now, i feel that i owe it to them and to myself to live my life to its fullest. to live not just the length of it, but the width of it as well. (r. emerson)

in order to do that, i must go through depressing times like this, because sadness is part of life. but so is happiness, and hope, and pink lollipops.

do not worry beloved reader, there will be happy posts ahead, but as for now, i really need to start writing my infotech assignment. lol

--
to happy days, pink lollipops, and ms. tecson accepting my late blog

my left chest has become the home of a little black pin

2008-03-04T23:24:00.004+09:00

"it is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died.
rather, we should thank God that such men lived."

- gen. george patton -

somehow i am incapable of doing just that.

for more than a month now, my waking hours have been haunted by the night i screamed for my grandfather's life to be restored. i can still hear myself wailing, in the juvenile hope that my screams would be loud enough to give him his life back. i am still plagued by the memory of his last attempt to live, of my uncles trying to revive him, of the green light from the ambulance where his time of death was proclaimed.

i cried everyday, up until it was time to bury him. somehow, i felt that if i did not cry, it would not be an official burial; that by not crying, he would be more alive.

in order for me to be even remotely functional, i chose to put the mourning process on hold. i had fNCP's to write, patients to interview, and egos to put up with.

i was doing well until 39 days after his death, a grandmother followed.

lola mingga died at the age of 95. she survived the two world wars, the three occupations by the foreign explorers, had given birth to five children, lived through the death of her husband, saw her grandchildren have their own children.

being the eldest of her great grandchildren, she treated me extra special. i was always the one she wanted to sleep at her little hut during weekends, was the grand daughter she always spoke about, was the only one was she allowed to kiss her on the nose.

i remember when i was little, when i'd sleep over, i would wake up to the smell of the most delicious garlic rice ever to be cooked in the history of the world. i remember seeing her long silver hair dangling across her face as she'd lay out my breakfast on her mahogany table.

it was hard to see her degenerate. it was painful to see her be reduced to a body claimed by age, her eyes no longer holding their once passionate sparkle, her hands no longer able to hold mine.

now, she is dead. just like him, she is dead. DEAD. DEAD. people say she looks like she's simply sleeping. i say she doesn't. she looks dead. because she is.

i have never felt so completely abandoned - the type of abandonment that cannot be undone.

i cannot think of thanking God, cannot bear to fully recall my years with them. all i want to do now is be able to mourn the deaths of the first people who taught me about how it was to love.

--
late entry due to crappy net services

Because I'm Here

2008-02-18T22:36:00.003+09:00

because i am here, and you're there, life is worse in all ways possible.

i had a fight with the woman i call mother again. only this time, you weren't here to comfort me, or listen to me cry, or even say, "hush baby, everything's gonna be alright."

joemark
you were my bestfriend, and on so many nights you waited for me around the corner to listen to me cry about the pain of being the most emotionally battered daughter. you dreamed my dreams with me, laughed with me and at me, saw me at my worst, nursed me back to my best. you were my bestfriend. but you did the most unthinkable form of treason you could ever do to me. you kept "her" a secret. it's not that you love her that disappoints me, it is that you thought it okay to keep me in the dark about a crucial decision you made. i thought you knew me. i guess i was wrong.
you of all people should know what hurts me, because you know me. you know my heart. after all, you occupy a huge part of it. well, make that occupied.
you were the one who chose this path. the more you prolonged your deceit, the more you distanced yourself from me.i am so disappointed at you.
one more thing, i hate you.

poet
yes. even you. i am mad at you. because i truly loved you. love you. and now, when i need you the most, when i miss you the most, i am haunted by the hurtful words that you professed were true.
before, when things in my world were all wrong, i knew i could just call you up and you'd be there. listening to me patiently as i pour out my juvenile hurts, waiting for me to finish sobbing before you crack a stupid joke that ironically makes me laugh everytime.
it's times like this, when i feel worthless, that i find my relevance in your love.
and yes, it is stupid to search for you when i know you won't be there anymore.

papa
even you. i am mad at you. for being so far. for being so distant.
i know you love me, but everytime i need you to fight the battles i cannot win, you can't because i'm here and you're there.
i miss you so much, especially on nights when my nightmares haunt me. i miss you when i am happy. i miss you when i eat pochero. i miss you when i go to school. i miss you all the time. it is the most familiar feeling i have when i think about you.
and i miss you now when my mother has persecuted me in ways a daughter should never be persecuted.

daddy
yes. i am mad at you. for dying. for leaving me to live in a world where you no longer exist. to live in this world where you are talked about in the past tense. to carry on a life of hurt, and pain, and love without you outside your house waiting for me to come home.
i am mad at you for leaving lola linda and me. for not waiting until i turned eighteen. for not waiting until i got the degree i'm working hard for. for not waiting for me to buy you your own house.
im mad at you for leaving me in this world.
im mad at you for leaving me in so much want of your kiss on my forehead.

i am sad, and mad because in your own ways, you have abandoned me. especially now when i need to fool myself that you're all here with me.

Retaso

2008-02-16T20:38:00.003+09:00

ladies and gentlemen, meet my first born..

RETASO:
Mga Tinahian sa Usa ka Pangandoy

nominated for Best Screenplay
nominated for Best Director
--
nominated for Best Actor
Kevin Pukot

winner of Best Picture

CiNe-U Pista sa Puting Tabil Year 2

Love Day

2008-02-16T00:12:00.005+09:00

nope. this is not a post about valentines day, or pink bunnies. not even about obese babies in half cloths. nothing scandalous like that.

this is a post about how a young girl's love for art and literature led her to discover love for herself.

this is a post about how this young girl would like to thank the dreamers gil,kim,judy,mayu,jemongs,al,stef,camz,charly,orlee,matt and jet for supporting her delusions.

but most of all, this is a post about a young girl's gratitude to that Someone Bigger who allowed her to receive an award for something she enjoyed doing.

thank you!!!

--
guys, we did it!!!
pictures still to be stolen from sir jet, yutiu and gela..

Erama

2008-02-11T23:26:00.000+09:00

you would've been my last dance..

--
in the name of politicians who are atrociously handsome.. edu rama bey-beh! haha..

mon cheri

2008-02-03T22:39:00.000+09:00

now i know how the river feels
when it reaches the sea
and finally finds a place
it was always meant to be

--ty herdon

do you remember how this felt?

--
make me remember. if only to humor me.

This is NOT a Happy Post

2008-01-28T17:58:00.000+09:00

and these are the reasons why...

3. i know now that it wasn't his meekness, not his brilliance, not his intellect, not even his charms - it was not his personal devotion to human pain, not even his profound knowledge of sound, meaning and lightness that drew me to him. it was the fact that he was out of my reach that made him so alluring.

his aloofness, his inability to feign capability of any human interaction, his unavailability set him above everyone else. these things made him the perfect object of any form of human want.

but now, now that he has so shamelessly professed that he is "taken," as if he were once displayed on the shelf to be sold to the highest bidder, he has been reduced to a love fool - incapable of functioning without mention of "her," unable to breathe without as mush as a grin attributed to "her"

he has thrown away everything worth wanting. he has lost his magic, his god-like elements taken by time. he has robbed the world of his significance - his januar-ness.

unlike adam, he chose to fall from grace.

now, he is just like the rest of us, bound to our mortal years, limited by our frail humanity.

he is no longer "him." now he is "hers."

-0O0-

2. it's bad enough that most of the painfully gorgeous men of my generation are attracted to the other painfully gorgeous men of my generation, but to actually learn that an ex has turned brokeback on me?

no wonder the relationship didn't work!

all the while, here i was postulating away with ridiculously logical stories of why he just vanished, while he was there spelunking caves of other x-y chromosomed!

at least he coul'dve told me. he shoul'dve told me. he could've had the decency to say "tess, i'm gay. let me do your make-up" or something like that. but no, he had to disappear for two years without as much as a single text, and then next thing i know, i'm watching his compromising pictures with his pseudo-boyfriend, in his dorm room, as they canoodle with each other in testosterone filth.

i don't have a problem with gay people. i love them. but to fool someone into believing you were interested in having a meaningful relationship when all you really wanted was some pointers on how to walk in heels, well there i have a problem.

i have one more thing to say:

blank, i know you read me, and i want you to know, you are so paying for my shrink.

-0O0-

1. i buried my grandfather yesterday.

i planned to blog about our relationship here, share intimate memories, say niceties and write about how tragic it was for me to see him die. but now i am moved only by grief not to say more than this:

daddy, i love you.

-0O0-

i used to believe in the twelve minute principle, but now i am compelled to unlearn such deprecating mechanism. i am proud to mourn these tragedies.

i choose to lament. for as long as i need.

--
digital prints snapped by saiaii, WRMoore, me, orlee

experiment 123.4

2008-01-04T18:29:00.000+09:00

on some afternoons, i stop
and stare at the empty frame
where your picture used to smile
under the thick glass,
on some afternoons i sit
and wait
for the light to move
and change from white
to yellow
to orange
to red
until the darkness eats up
the light from the sun
that reminds me why
you are here no longer

--
orange light and blank frames

a gift from wowowee

2008-01-04T16:49:00.000+09:00

surrounded by all these stories of broken families, failed marriages, extra-marital affairs, it is inevitable for me to feel and believe that the sanctity of marriage has been demoralized - that this holy vow of eternity-shared has become obsolete in these times of fast-anything. not only have i had my fair share of personal tales of expiration dates, i have seen people around me suffer through days gone nights because of their belief that love, real love, still exists. whatever the poets say, or playwrights write, their arguments have long been negated by real people, real life. these things and more have lead me to question my own beliefs of real love's existence. well at least in our times.

but then, once in a while... once in a great, great while, you get to see the real thing.

i was flipping through the channels when i came across this man who was crying, professing his undying love for his wife, on national tv... and the way he looked at her, and danced with her, and how he said that for as long as he lived, he will not walk without her hand in his, it makes me realize that love isn't just found in books, that it still exists. even in our times.

--
to hopes of finding my real thing
*photo illegally lifted from emohoc

lola knows...best

2008-01-04T15:32:00.000+09:00

you never know what lessons you might learn when you talk to your grandmother. when mine was here, visiting for the holidays, she said the weirdest thing.

"ta, daga naman g'yud ka, di man g'yud na kapugngan nga manguyab ka, ayaw g'yug panguyab og minyo..."

i'm not even gonna elaborate. it's too obvious ;)

Ago Vita Per Diligo

2008-01-03T00:48:00.000+09:00

i hibernated through the holidays -- mainly by sleeping through christmas, eating, watching tv, daydreaming, sleeping some more and doing what i believe was the feeblest attempt of any human specie to sing.

i did some thinking too. well, a lot of thinking actually, and i have come to realize that i am tired. dead tired of carrying around so much guilt, so much unhappiness, so much negativity.

the past year wasn't too good for me. chaotic doesn't even begin to cut it. i want to believe that it stops there -- that all the pain, all the severed relationships, all the uncontrollable circumstances, all the broken promises and compromised dreams ends with the beginning of this new year.

unfortunately for me, that's not quite how life works.

this year, i know that some things are still bound to go wrong; that though i've had enough drama to last me a lifetime, i will still shed some more tears; that though i have began to love my course, i will still doubt my decision; that though stuff ended for the betterment of everybody, i will still be a girl and mope about it. but this year though, i choose to do something different... i choose to hope. to believe. to dream that things will be better. to do something to make things better. this year, i choose to be better.

i'm done being dark and twisty.

for once, i want to be bright and shiny.

happy new year everyone!

--
photo illegally lifted from kil1k

Betty ♥ Henry

2007-12-28T22:03:00.001+09:00

geeky assistant + nerdy accountant = me in uber kilig mode

i heart betty and henry

i know, i am such a dweeb ;)

Rain on my Parade

2007-12-28T15:25:00.000+09:00

i went out today in search of the second season of a tv series that is currently not shown in viva la third world, but i got so much more.

i visited the public market and for some bizarre reason, i chose to speak in a ridiculously accented tagalog accent, laughed with a toothless butcher and then went to church to light wet candles. i managed to ride the wrong jeepney and ended up somewhere in downtown cebu where i looked at apartments (apparently they cost php 750 a month), i got flashed by a greasy homeless man with unreasonably bushy pubes, found a little corner where they sold pms soap (need to tell dwight) and violet roses (though i seriously believe they were just dyed white roses). i walked a little more, no, more like gallivanted the muddy streets of colon in my white spartan slippers and uncombed hair.

i sang, whistled, and hummed. i jumped, hopped and skipped. i got my toenails muddy, my slippers dirty, and myself wet.

my friends who are reading this might be thinking, "oh god, she's having one of her crazy days again." on contraire, i believe i just had the first of the many lucid days that i will be having.

i may not have walked on sunshine today, but it was great to finally dance under the rain again.

--
photo illegaly lifted from *marinshe

Yuletide Blues

2007-12-26T11:54:00.000+09:00

i woke up today missing you.

it wasn't one of those days when i'd wake up, battle with myself if i should stand up or go back to sleep, daydream and allow myself to bask in nostalgic thoughts of you and the sadness you command. no. it wasn't anything like that. i just woke up, missing you.

it was an automatic reaction to the opening of my eyes, a thoughtless impulse overtaking any logical response. an angry wave surging through every vein, every nerve; like a virulent disease claiming every healthy tissue. crippling. paralyzing.

and now i am haunted by things no longer.

--
ah, yes. the holidays.

- -

2007-12-26T10:58:00.000+09:00

"Because I love you. Because you exist. That alone is so much that it won't allow me to die. And since I must be alive to know that you are, I will in the world as it is, in the manner of life it demands. Not halfway, but completely. Not pleading and running from it, but walking out to meet it. Beating it to the plain and the ugliness, being first to choose the worst it can do to me."

-Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

Chubi-chubi

2007-12-12T22:57:00.000+09:00

i am in a place in my life where clouds scream out the weird taps in my chest.
maybe it's the holiday season, or my reunion with mr. undulation,
it may even be just the post-nursing week euphoria talking,
but whatever it maybe, i wish everyone the same sense of lightness
that i am currently infected with.

may you all find your chubi-chubi!

ah, the power of pe class.. ;D
picture stolen from superbianca

Convergence

2007-12-09T22:56:00.000+09:00

for stretching out your hand and asking me to dance, even when you knew that i traded my dancing shoes for orange pens long before we met
for walking me home even when you knew your archaic landlady would not allow you to get inside the boarding house for another hour or so
for not giving up on me when you should've
for making me blush
for not caring about what people thought when you called me labs
for holding me in public
for laughing even when the jokes weren't that funny
for being a kid with me and enjoying it
for telling your friends about me
for missing me
for the seventeen moons shared

i give you my poetry

***

music and poetry

two moons of eris
clash and tangle
to form tides and beats
for art immortale

love on paper
music on shoes
hand in hand
mine with yours

party poppers
and black toole
for the eternal dance
of forgotten dolls

overcome me
with your art
and i shall drown
you in mine

***

so yeah, we're two mushy puppies, and labs is corny,
but that's the charm in being each other's forbidden art.

--
posted in the name of going back to the primal screams together
photo lifted from trevor

Take Two

2007-12-04T23:41:00.000+09:00

so maybe i do believe in second chances..

and yes mr. undulation, i am still your ms. left foot..

--
:D

For Mister

2007-11-25T21:45:00.001+09:00

so, you found me.

i hid this from you because i know you would've never approved of how i sensationalized you. i make no apologies for quoting you, because somehow it was the only way of keeping you. or what i thought was you. and because as we both know, i'm better off with you as fiction.

--
i tried so very hard not to send you messages. to stay away.
i tried so very hard to not be pathetic, and miserable, and desperate for you, even if i know i am.

and i was doing so good. up until tonight.

just like that, you're suddenly back. and boy do you know how to make an entrance.

if you do not wish to put up with my drama, then i suggest you stay away. because sad as it may be, i am not over you.

i'm still in love with you.

so there you go.

Love in the Time of Cholera

2007-11-15T14:23:00.000+09:00

it's finally here.
;D

The Plea of the Abandoned

2007-11-12T22:12:00.000+09:00

i have helplessly tried to cover my inadequacy by posting pictures that yes, tell stories

stories that im afraid to say, i cannot write anymore

it is time to come out clean
to finally stop hiding behind the clicking sounds of my shutter machine
to finally stop pretending that negatives are better than scribbles

i have been punished

perhaps for not caring enough to write
perhaps for choosing to hang a sphygmomanometer on my neck
rather than carry my morrison book
perhaps because after all the bitter tears ive shed in defense of my dreams, i gave up...

now, my muse has abandoned me,
my words - no longer mine
and the stars have turned their backs on me...

i no longer have the comfort in knowing that i can dream
because dreaming about writing will never be the same
as writing

i want to write.
but i cant.

i cant.
but i want to.

this is what i get for choosing to kill the writer to save the nurse.

to mr. cronus,
lend me those evasive grains of sand in your bottle.
i need my time - that time - back.

--
photo illegally lifted from insik.

Vuvu

2007-11-08T17:25:00.000+09:00

orlee,

it feels wrong to eat lunch without you.
and i know you know this, but i NEED to say it nonetheless,

i miss you

--mumi--

Wick and Wax

2007-11-08T15:57:00.000+09:00

"...oh ye of little faith"

--
to wawa and charly, the best companions for a rainy walk in colon

more pictures here.

What The World Needs

2007-11-08T14:26:00.000+09:00

we could all use one.

--
for more information, click here.

Where My Dreams Await

2007-10-29T20:22:00.000+09:00

maybe next sem-break.

wait for me.

--
the little town of boljoon

Of Winning and Losing

2007-10-25T16:46:00.000+09:00

before i proceed to a long overdue requiem, first i must say that yesterday was a great day to be a mother. my girls ellyn, poni, flo, and dena, who were once just babies, have grown to be such great parliamentarians, defending the honor of the gavel, upholding grace, and poise, winning their own regional competition.

i am so proud of you my darlings!
go win that national trophy in davao!

now, a warning. below may be the the mushiest, cheesiest, most saccharide infested entry i've posted in a while. but i feel that i must do this, if only to keep my sanity.

--
Cosmic Love

you were a shooting star.
bringing at your wake promises of fulfilled dreams; resurrecting forgotten wishes.

i was a meteor.
burning. on fire. passionate about everything.

you gravitated towards me. i was falling too fast. so we collided. and allowed fire to consume us.

we roamed the vast emptiness of the universe.
conquering light years, defying orbits.

but i was a meteor.
and you were a shooting star.

and true to our names, i fell too fast. too fast.
so i hit the ground before i knew it.
smaller in everyway. broken. shattered. alone.

you went away too fast. too fast.
so i only saw a glimpse of your shining wake.
teasing in everyway. taking with you everything.

--

because yesterday was the regional competition. because it was our story. because we met at a star. because i miss you. because i know i shouldn't. because i do.

--

dodong gavel,
you are my supernova.

Carpalic Understanding

2007-10-15T20:19:00.000+09:00

UNDER THE TABLE
where the real story is told

--
anatomy class
CNU - CN AVR

dulce et utile

2007-10-11T23:26:00.000+09:00

jang,

you are my poetry.

Birthdays and Barbeque

2007-10-03T20:44:00.000+09:00

to:
co-superhero buzz boy,

happy eleventh twelfth birthday my friend!
may you never tire of laughing and dreaming!

from:
tisa girl with love from the durty durty south..

--
imo kaayo nang stayl ang durty durty south hap.. hehe..

Ineffective Coping

2007-10-03T19:12:00.000+09:00

boy: why are you being so paranoid?

girl: well, i have a theory.

boy: well, what is it? i haven't got all day.

girl: well, i think that i was expecting you to miss me as much as i missed you. and when you acted so... i dunno, blandly (for lack of a better term) i took it as animosity. i dunno. maybe even that theory is paranoidy.

boy: why would it matter if i missed you?

girl: i dunno. it just does. to me at least.

boy: it's not like we're together

girl: oh. right. yeah. okay. thanks for clearing that up.

boy: good

--
you gotta love post-you conversations

When Love Fails

2007-10-02T22:35:00.000+09:00

dennis trillo has pronounced to the world that yes, he is calix andrea's father.

jang has admitted, in his own way that yes, he is in love.

and my dear friend lost the love of her life.

it pains me to see that though *he* is the one in the coffin, my friend is the one who's dead.

who can blame her?

once upon a time, she defied the heavens and the earth to be with him. and all of a sudden, he died.

no one told her he collapsed.
no one told her he was rushed to the ICU.

everyone simply told her he died.

how does anyone move on from that?

i cannot imagine the pain she goes through while she sits there at his wake, night after night, reliving the moments they spent together, telling friends about the crazy stuff he did while he was still here... telling people about him... but never about them.

how do you pretend that you didn't lose a part of your soul when night after night you watch your heart about to be buried six feet below the ground?

how do you just keep it all inside when all you wanna do is cry and get mad. at god and at everyone. for letting him die without you by his side to tell him that he is loved?

cheska girl,
let's shave our heads and lament. i know how it is to breathe and yet still be dead.

Oh My Goody

2007-10-02T22:16:00.000+09:00

so okay, you suddenly believe in love.
you're in love.
with her.

somebody shoot me now.

Buzz Boy

2007-09-30T17:05:00.000+09:00

GIERAD
ang kiat nga char

friend, wa lang.
i miss you sad.

A Quote

by bararad

I wanted to write you a quote
that captures an emotion,
a feeling at this very moment.
but quotes can be mushy, limited, or cheesy.
so let me convey my quote without quotes,
an expression that's sincerely me:
"i am missing you dearly"

Remembering Alex

2007-09-28T22:34:00.000+09:00

--oOo--

cheska, my dear, hold on.
know that we are here to help you hold on.

Geometry, Poetry and Assymetry

2007-09-28T21:29:00.000+09:00

jude weaves words into fine poetry, like an old, seasoned seamstress sews fine garment.

her poetry, like fine silk. her words, like strong thread. her heart like a seamstress' calloused hands.

ako, naghimugso'g mga pulong kauban sa tabyog sa mga balod, samtang nagsayaw kauban sa huni sa hanging nagdala sa mga damgo ug mga pag-ampo paingon sa kaugmaong makab-utan sa kamagayan.

she sews in english.

samtang sa pikas bahin sa kalibutan nga mao ang binisaya, ako naglabyog.

she holds the other end of the rope.

ug kon kami magkahiusa, mapapa ang imposible.

together, we shall conquer the world.

--
on having complementary friends

p.s.
alkansi ming kim kay kaantigo'g ininglis UG bisaya ;)

Poles

2007-09-26T23:53:00.000+09:00

lu·cid [loóssid]

adjective

1. rational: rational, and mentally clear, clear and easily understood

she claims she is.

a·pha·sic [ə fáyzik]
adjective

1. lack of language abilities: the partial or total inability to produce and understand speech

i know i am.

everything i am not. everything he loves. everything she is.

--
photocredit: macabre

Just So You Know

2007-09-16T23:33:00.000+09:00

i gave up on the idea of ever being friends with you again. it just hurt too much. there was just too much memory of you, me, and him.

no, more like me, you and him.

it was easier to just get mad at you. to just leave things hanging. so i gave up.

but you didn't.

you were sincere in your desire to sew the pieces we left hanging a long time ago.

i took a small step towards you, and you immediately leapt the remaining mile towards me.

so i thank you.

because finally, after all these years, i can forgive myself... for getting mad at you for being loved by the boy who i first loved.

cat, i can finally wish you happiness. he loves you so much. and i know that you love him. more than i ever did or ever will.

take care of him, and take care of yourself.

--
photocredits: cathy

Drizzle Me Lonely

2007-09-16T23:14:00.000+09:00

i miss the rain.

it may seem erroneous now to say that i do, seeing that it's been raining non-stop lately, but i do miss the rain.

i miss my rain.

the kind of rain i used to take a bath under.

the kind of rain which cancels classes.

the kind of rain which forces me to cuddle with my favorite boyfriend. okay pillow.

the kind of rain which gives me a license to play dead.

the kind of rain which makes me feel that all is well in the world.

when it rains now, it just reminds me of all the things that are not anymore.

it is not my rain.

Un Veritas

2007-08-19T21:33:00.000+09:00

Remember that old, unmarried uncle whose sad love story extends into his long, grayish beard twined around his cane. Jorge Luis Borges only had one love in his life, and unsuccessful, he turned to his library and wrote about labyrinths until he turned blind for the rest of his life. Well, maybe, I am that.

-januar yap-

and so it is written. he is just like the rest of us. sad. miserable. idealistic.

we're all coping.

--
to read the rest of his blog entry, click here.

Blueprint

2007-08-19T21:16:00.000+09:00

Man Without a Life

By ROBERTO GONZALEZ ECHEVARRIA

A biography of Jorge Luis Borges, who valued books and solitude above all things

nce, when presented with a biography of himself, Jorge Luis Borges is reported to have said that the book was probably fine, but that he was not interested in the topic. Yet this man who is reputed to have had hardly any life outside of his books, and who dismissed whatever life he did have as inconsequential, has already been the subject of several biographies, with more to come. An author who delighted in writing reviews of nonexistent books has thus become the subject of books about his oft-professed humdrum existence as an essayist, editor, poet and writer of stories, a librarian and, later, a teacher of literature. Irony surrounds everything involving Borges the writer and Borges the man.

--is it just me, or do i know someone living Borges style?

and take note,

In 1986, he married his secretary and traveling companion, who had once been his student.

--ehem ;)

A Song for Me

2007-08-19T20:37:00.000+09:00

everybody's talking how i can't
can't be your love
but i want
want
want to be your love
want to be your love
for real

-Be, Be Your Love
Rachael Yamagata-

one day.
one day soon.

Dik-shun-airy

2007-08-17T23:29:00.000+09:00

dreamer: (noun) a person who sees the sunrise when everybody else is sleeping

--
photocredits: me
for more pictures by the writer as photographer, click here.

Bipolarity

2007-08-15T20:11:00.000+09:00

i tried to kill myself last week.

i didn't succeed, but i died a long time ago.
everything has changed.
now, there is hope for me. and for my dreams.

but the question remains...
--
i went to the bookstore. my personal way of de-stressing. i found orhan pamuk, and milan kundera, jose luis borges and gabriel garcia marquez there. they were waiting for me.

"welcome home child."

that was enough to tell me what i needed to do.
--
pa,
there are times when i need to talk to you; because i love you, and i know you'll understand. but you're there, and i'm here, and it's too expensive, too impractical to talk to you about things-- both trivial and crucial to my well-being. so instead of talking to you, i just get angry with mama. it's easier, more convenient, more practical to be mad at her. for being selfish. for wanting me to live the life she was not allowed to live.

i'm sorry to be so unhappy. i know you had dreams too. dreams that you were also not allowed to chase after.

i guess that runs in the family.
--
i will wait until *things* reveal themselves to me. if not, well, i still have the candle.

Conversation with the Other Half

2007-07-17T23:34:00.000+09:00

g: not again
b: can't we just talk? laugh? be friends?
g: i know us. we're incapable of staying platonic.
b: then what's stopping us?
g: everything

***

g: i miss you
b: i know. i miss you too.
g: oh God, what are we doing?
b: madness. intoxicating madness.

***

b: i can't talk to you tomorrow. is that okay?
g: stop doing that.
b: doing what?
g: acting like we're together.
b: oh. i'm sorry. old habits.

***

--
either post this, or explode.

Crossroad

2007-07-14T23:37:00.000+09:00

oscar wilde was right when he said "every portrait that is painted with a feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter."

i made the terrible mistake of writing with my heart. i have been too personal, too transparent. i have been betrayed by my own doing.

because he reads my blog, he knows my soul.
he knows me.

i am not ready for him to know me, or any of it. and it is because of this that i am entertaining the idea of forever closing this blog.

i blogged because i wanted to preserve a part of me which i felt i was losing. i never expected this.

if i do close this blog, i wish to say some things to people i may never have the chance to talk to again...

ate rain

do not worry. i have been thriving in sarcasm and melancholy long before i read you.

you have not in any way damaged me.

you, in fact, make me feel that it is alright to be imperfect. you celebrate life, womanhood, men, intelligence, rebellion, and even the inevitable lamentations that come with it.

him

i know you already know.

my readers

thank you for letting me know you exist.

--
i am a coward. that is perhaps why i chose to write.

Circles

2007-07-10T21:32:00.000+09:00

i'm supposed to be on my self-declared hiatus, but then she visited my blog.

the idol finally reads the fan.

i have finally come full circle. i think.

ate rain,

kaila na ta. miga na ta ha? haha.

ako.

--
still on hiatus

Public Statement

2007-07-10T00:50:00.000+09:00

this blog is temporarily closed.

blog owner not on the right mind.

Goodbye Ana

2007-07-08T23:31:00.000+09:00

it is with a heavy heart that i make this post.

ana escalante-neri, finned traveler and dreamer, died today.

her last article was published a day before she turned twenty-nine. she recently won the lightpress award for her poem lightscape. and now...

her books will remain untouched

and isabel, her six-year old daughter, will grow up having memories of ana taking pictures of her

--
your flippers and your pen, together with the rest of us, will miss you ana...

Tabula Rasa

2007-07-08T17:50:00.000+09:00

i want to start fresh.

i am afraid the only way to do so is to let go of the past...
to surrender a part of me i wish i could keep.

old blog title and description

the poet's ex-mistress
idiotic maladies of an insomniac

old profile

once upon a time, i gave it my all. i got my heart broken, my ego bruised, and my spirits dampened. this is the chronicle of my attempt to get over him... and everything in between.

old mantra

when you're inlove with a married man, never wear mascara.

old theme

blacks and silvers

goodbye.. goodbye..

--
there is no more of the poet and his mistress. now exists watercolors and a girl disturbed.

Dear Sir

2007-07-08T17:06:00.000+09:00

dear sir,

i love you.

i've waited too long to say that to you, so i'm not gonna say anything anymore.

i love you.

me

***

can we meet?

yes

***

hoi! i love you too.
naghuwat sad kog four years para musulti ana.
will you go out with me?

yes.

***

dear sir,

i would like to marry your daughter.

***

what?! kausa pa gani ta nagdate, minyo dayon?

naghuwat baya tag four years.
from the first time i heard you laugh, i knew.

***

After the Tears

2007-07-08T17:02:00.000+09:00

pills can give you the high you want.

a good night's worth of dreaming can make you forget about betrayal.

but a poem brings release.

--
b, thank you

The Rain

2007-07-08T01:13:00.000+09:00

"the people who say that sunny days are happier than rainy days have probably never tried dancing in the rain"

-________-

...and that is all i remember now that it keeps raining

Post-it

2007-07-08T01:05:00.000+09:00

For My Lover, Returning To His Wife
Anne Sexton

She is all there.
She was melted carefully down for you
and cast up from your childhood,
cast up from your one hundred favorite aggies.

She has always been there, my darling.
She is, in fact, exquisite.
Fireworks in the dull middle of February
and as real as a cast-iron pot.

Let's face it, I have been momentary.
vA luxury. A bright red sloop in the harbor.
My hair rising like smoke from the car window.
Littleneck clams out of season.

She is more than that. She is your have to have,
has grown you your practical your tropical growth.
This is not an experiment. She is all harmony.
She sees to oars and oarlocks for the dinghy,

has placed wild flowers at the window at breakfast,
sat by the potter's wheel at midday,
set forth three children under the moon,
three cherubs drawn by Michelangelo,

done this with her legs spread out
in the terrible months in the chapel.
If you glance up, the children are there
like delicate balloons resting on the ceiling.

She has also carried each one down the hall
after supper, their heads privately bent,
two legs protesting, person to person,
her face flushed with a song and their little sleep.

I give you back your heart.
I give you permission --

for the fuse inside her, throbbing
angrily in the dirt, for the bitch in her
and the burying of her wound --
for the burying of her small red wound alive --

for the pale flickering flare under her ribs,
for the drunken sailor who waits in her left pulse,
for the mother's knee, for the stocking,
for the garter belt, for the call --

the curious call
when you will burrow in arms and breasts
and tug at the orange ribbon in her hair
and answer the call, the curious call.

She is so naked and singular
She is the sum of yourself and your dream.
Climb her like a monument, step after step.
She is solid.

As for me, I am a watercolor.
I wash off.

He Said

2007-07-04T21:44:00.000+09:00

"The good thing about artists is that they don't die. They just retire from performing live."

-Januar Yap on Yoyoy-