Starlight

I wonder if all we’ll ever be are vibrations over the radiowaves.

This distance is a truck-load of shit.

I hate every second of it.

What am I still doing here?

Mishap and Mayhem

Siya

The last few months have been eventful. I’ve lived my life long enough to know how it should work; that the end would be the happiest and the ever after is the most terrifying. Now, we’re nearing the end and it seems to get a little out of control.

To tell you the cold hard truth, I get lousy in writing with regard to you. I can’t really describe anything. I lose words more readily than I lose my train of thought. I know what I want to say but these things cannot be written down. Not because of the raging passion behind it but because of the calm underneath.

I’m just very comfortable with things as they are. But the things that go on the heads across the universe affect me as well. I know this will just be another thing that would soon be overshadowed by a more promising activity or perhaps not.

By some odd chance, maybe you have the answer I’ve been looking for.

Tayo

I’ve already spent a year’s worth of post describing how I feel for you. Now we have something concrete between us. Now it’s just us in a makeshift flying carpet ride.

In another time, I swear I’ll be better. In another place, I swear we’ll be better.

Ako

I’m a very confused person right now.

 

Yehey Creepy Web Quiz

Your Existing Situation Feels there are barriers between herself and the essential things she desires. Your Stress Sources “Delights in the finer things in life and things that appeal to the senses, but can be critical. Is careful and cautious and must believe she is not being manipulated or tricked. Keeps her emotions in check and is always analyzing her relationships in order to know exactly where she stands at all times. Demands complete honesty as a protection against her naturally trusting nature.” Your Restrained Characteristics “Feels she is getting less than she deserves for all her hard work; however, she makes no effort to change things and tries to make the best of the situation.” “Believes her hopes and dreams are realistic, but needs reassurance from others. Has strict standards when looking for a partner and wants guarantees that she will not be disappointed or lose.” Is satisfied and finds contentment through sexual activity. Your Desired Objective “Wishes to live in a calm, peaceful, relaxing environment, where everyone gets along and there is a strong sense of belonging.” Your Actual Problem “Tends to be too trusting, so she must protect herself from this or she runs the risk of being misunderstood or used by others. Searching for a relationship which provides a safe and understanding environment, one where she knows exactly where she stands with her partner at all times.”

Shelves

It’s my shelf. I thought I should glorify it.

LEGEND (top; left to right):

• Darren Shan Saga (Darren Shan)
• His Dark Materials (Philip Pullman)
• Greek Mythology
• Black Dahlia
• Neil Gaiman Books
• Incarnations of Immortality (Piers Anthony)
• Septimus Heap (Angie Sage)
• Artemis Fowl (Eoin Colfer)
• (Back) Classics, Shannara (T Brooks), Marcus Sedgewick books, Ender and Shadow Saga (OS Card), Dune (F Herbert), Alvin Maker (OS Card), NegiMa!?)

(Middle; left to right)

• Harry Potter (JK Rowling)
• Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins)
• A Song of Ice and Fire (GRR Martin)
• Inheritance Saga (Christopher Paolini)
• (midback) Sidney Sheldon, Vampire Chronicles
• (back) Stephen King, The Legend of Drizzt (RA Salvatore), Brothers Grimm, The Hobbit (JRR Tolkien)

(Bottom; left to right)

• Kikomachine (Manix Abrera)
• Pugad Baboy (PM jr.)
• Bob Ong books
• Martial Law Babies (Arnold Arre)
• Discworld books (Terry Pratchett)

Special Kind of Boring

Sometimes, I wish I could be a better person and not this half-assed excuse of light and dark.

I wonder why you’d want to be with me. I’m an emotional blackhole every month. I’m this kind of person you don’t really know until you try. I’m this brand of boring on any other day.

You know about this. Somehow, along the course of knowing, I knew you too.

Maybe.

But sometimes, I just wish I could be better; at least, for your sake if not for mine. It’s because I’m this brand of boring that I wonder what we are still doing here. I wonder why we are still here.

I wish I knew but you won’t tell me.

I can crack every kind of weirdness as long as it doesn’t involve me. I guess this just keeps me hurtling back to you. I wondered. I rambled.

I talk to myself at night.

I want them to know. I want you to know. I want to know. I want to be unsure but it can’t happen. I’m a dog in love with a cat and I don’t know what the difference is.

But I want to be better.

Lastly, I want you.

Morning, 24th

If I had stopped when I had the chance

to have not loved you as I should not,

would this future change?

Or would it still be this:

another verse, another song

this of sorrow and painful regret?

–

In my head, I call him a thousand names. My hands touched him a thousand times. Somehow, a 2×3 panel of virtual space parted us a thousand times.

Sahigaan

Months happened

Along lightyears, between

Celestial space;

Dawn broke upon

The purple haze clouding

My head;

Time and space

Ran across the yard

And I think I loved you

In the lifetimes spent

Across my bed.

Hitlist

• Mahilig ako sa borloloy
• Naglalaro ako ng Barbie at Polly Pocket
• Madalas ako mag-crossdress
• Meron akong relasyon sa Baby ko…
• …pero hindi niya alam ito
• Nagku-kurbata ako dahil trip ko lang
• ‘Di ko magawang maging matapang pag may lumilipad na ipis
• May unhealthy obsession ako sa…
• Babae pala ako
• Dinadalangin kong sana’y maka-graduate na
• At sana, mahagkan na kita

Regalia

Night shades swinging on

The rooftops hovering

Above my head;

Whistling things on wings

Sounding like carols

From heavenly choirs;

The toymaker runs the night

On mammal-powered engines

And imaginings;

I’m stuffed to the brim

Sitting by the keys

Hearing your voice singing

Across the Milky Way.

Mataas na Paaralang Pang-Agham ng Maynila

I graduated from MSHS. It’s a school located along Taft Avenue and it is home to some strangely normal people. Not that it’s anything noteworthy but the people there aren’t exactly what people assume them to be.

When we were in high school, we were also subjected to the usual drama. Every once in a while, gossip would spread about people we haven’t even exchanged looks yet. Surprisingly, we got to know each other through that exchange of stories. The small community we have became something like a familiar necessity; something bordering on family.

We were children when we entered the walls of that school. We were sticky and drooling. Some of us grew up fast (or thought they did) while some of us refused to acknowledge maturity. Some of us were pretty much shielded from the world and its awfulness. Some tended to have other influences outside the walls and perhaps it was good for them. For these matters, we only had to hope and wait.

The four years spent inside was something like an opened cage to me; the door was there for you to exercise restraint. During the first year, we were drilled to be awesome. We were taught to think that we are awesome and at the same time, to think that we could be so much more. As much as we seemed like doomed individuals back then, we were happy that we were somehow better than somebody else (that somebody else need not really exist). The downside was wearing a nametag when you’re trying so hard to shed off the elementary side of you.

When 2^nd year rolled in, our batch was the meanest. All sophomores are mean. They are the prime cut tormentors of all the freshmen. The reason for this was not always clear but it was frequently attributed to no longer being the youngest in the school; hence, the petty power tripping and a prouder sidestepping. Aside from these favorite activities, sophomore year usually rolls in with the first taste of serious heartache. In our generation, this came through text messages. If you’re lucky, you’ll end the year with another hand secretly holding your own. Otherwise, you’re thinking that the world hates you and you’re belting it out in Friendster.

The juniors weren’t quite as quirky as their younger counterparts. They are actually the serious bunch. For us, junior year was the no-nonsense year. This was the time to be important because you are almost a senior – you had to earn points. But of course, this was the first prom. This was the year that culminated in February and not March. Sometimes, it ends happily. To the general public, they just go home stuffed and thinking how much it sucks to spend the night in the school quadrangle.

The greatest year was probably the senior year. This was the final step to freedom. For me, this was the best year of my HS life. A tip to the younger generations: when you get here, no matter how bruised you are or how perfect you think you are, things will always be so much better. Senior year was like a dream and like all dreams it tends to stay that way. It had to end. Life had to go on. Just when you thought you had it all, you still have so much more to do.

You had to begin again.

We had four years to our names. We had Paco Park, McDO-UN and KFC-Taft. We had WPD and Rob-Ermita. We were the ankle-biters of an aging city. We had known wars between sections and we had known how it is to cry over unspoken words and ungiven gifts. We had skinned knees and broken bones. We knew everything and yet we still knew so little. In our little world, we are the world.

We were required to be something when we were behind the walls of MSHS. We were expected to be better than what we are. Sometimes, these things worked but I remember things differently. We were golden but we had to be panned out of the rocky streams of the world. Eventually, we found out that we were wrong. We were not golden. We were not better than somebody else. At the end of the day, we were just sticky children hurrying to grow up.

Batchmates, did we?