Just Pull The Trigger Why Don't You

a friend noticed it. i don't say goodbye. not the word. not even on the phone before hanging up or after a night out. i don't like the way it rolls off my tongue. ask me to say it and it wouldn't sound right. like someone saying "i'm happy" when one doesn't really mean it.

bad enough when i hear someone saying it. especially from someone i don't really want to go. not ever. i'm scary that way.

--

IT JUST KILLS ME whenever you say goodbye. goodbye and its different variants. bye, byers, g'bye... sneaky little demons clawing at my heart, telling me i won't see you again.

i guess i should be grateful. it's better than having you around, staying as a "friend," having to hear you say goodbye over and over and over and over...

but still. it hurts me so much that i want to kick you in the gut and tell you to leave me the fuck alone. leave me and my sorry little life alone. bad enough you're near to screw with my already screwed up mind a hundred times over...

SO WHAT IN THE LIVING HELLS DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

i've always wallowed in ambiguity. (subtlety nothing.) covering myself in thick mists no one has been able to penetrate. (as if anyone dared to.) but here i am trying to pick myself out from off of it and you're always somehow somewhere else covered in your own damned clouds, laughing all the way.

that's just so fucking cruel.

you're telling me that i'm insane for wanting to see a movie because i needed to cry. i'm insane for a lot of reasons but i don't think that's one of 'em. if anything i want to see that movie so i can cry because YOU'RE the one who's making me insane you little shit.

i love you ok. deeply, DEEPER than i would comfortably, that i would WANT to feel. so please if you choose to remain in your cubbyhole little comfort zone and refuse my outstretched hands (because now i'm not sure whether i'm the one who needs saving or you), i think it's my turn to say goodbye.

Honesty Is Not Forgotten

OK. Writing in first person is a bit weird. I infuse too much of myself in the character, and it's not really a very good thing. Still. I needed the therapy. The catharsis it gives me. And parts of it happened before anyway... Maybe I'm just dredging up too much stale emotions in me. Or maybe I just want to write and write and write and it wouldn't matter if I'm telling something about myself or someone made up or if I'm lying. (Does it matter anyway if I am?)

POINT IS, I want to keep myself sane. I want to work out who I am with what I write. Bug said I was greedy? Maybe I am. Let me work it out with my writings.

And so begins another one...

--

IT WAS RIGHT, WHAT he said. That he doesn’t know anything about the guys he’s gone out with. Fine, the longest relationship he’s had was like, four months, and FINE, those guys have mostly just been S-Teen hypocritical queens, but that doesn’t exactly cover everything that needs to be covered (so to speak) about someone. Heck, even a whole lifetime isn’t enough, when one thinks about it.

And I guess in a way, I understood that. It’s not even about the uncapped ballpoint pens and the bubblegum wrappers and the waking up in the middle of every goddamned night because of a perpetually nocturnal cold virus attack, NO, it’s not about the LITTLE things which SUPPOSEDLY matter. It’s about the BIGGER PICTURE in this person’s tapestry of life. And I can’t help but think I’m just a passing thread in his tapestry. It just so happened that our threads needed to intertwine at this point, linger, but will eventually, inevitably, and inexorably have to separate sooner THAN later.

That was what he meant, I so knew it. Having someone see the bigger picture as you do. And if not that, then it’s probably a close enough carbon copy. That feeling –- which makes you think that whatever threads his tapestry is made of, yours and his are the same. That feeling of familiarity, of coming home. That is what he wants.

And that’s what I want too.

Funny thing was I felt it in him. Although I can’t be sure. If it’s not then it’s a hell of a lot close. Bottomline is, it’s real. I was sure he felt that as well, subtle as though its passage may be. And as a matter of fact, he never failed to tell me promptly that he did. It caught me off guard to say the least.

He never missed a beat. Telling me whatever was on his mind, pre-empting it with, “I know I shouldn’t tell you this,” or “I’m making things easy for you, but.” If I didn’t resist the urge to slap him everytime he says something like that, he would probably have a face swollen as someone who stumbled face first on a beehive. (Or we could have had hot, S & M sex. Whateva.)

Anyway, that was it. Honesty. Too much of it. Not that I was complaining at that time. I thought it was kind of nice. And I guess I was the same with him too. It was odd sort of, but still pleasant, getting to sleep at night without having to bother thinking of the used-to-be-thick mists and the ambiguity between me and a guy I was feeling good vibes with. He even told me that unexplainably, it was only with me he felt really SOBER. Yeah, that was the exact word. He felt like he was totally himself. That it would be next to IMPOSSIBLE had he tried to lie or pretend to be someone else -– something he usually, automatically reverts to being whenever he’s dating. Not so with me, he says. And there was light. And it was good. “Clear,” sang the Hungry Young Poets, “like a brightly-lit crystal chandelier...” And for a time, the nights were calm and silent...

What I forgot, was that the next line of that song was, “... there’s no tomorrow.”

So, after a while, and as I was expecting, guiltily at the back of my head, the honesty got a bit out of hand. Whenever we talk, it started to sound like a Focus Group Discussion. Still. I refused to think it won’t work. (I do believe in fairies, I remember thinking to myself.) But in spite of all the mental and emotional machinations I tried to bolster myself with, I knew the relationship was beginning its descent. And I was slowly beginning to drift to that long list of his, of guys he dated but gradually became friends with.

I panicked. So I used my last Honesty Card. I told him I was afraid of being the next one to fall on that list.

And then HE panicked. So he WITHDREW his Honesty Card and dealt the I’m Sorry Card.

That was the end of it. And I’d rather be out of his life than be on that list.

I would probably forget him, as I’ve forgotten a lot of spectacular guys who came my way before. And I won’t remember his name, or his face, or his voice, or the way I watched the silhouette of his chest go slowly up and down like clockwork while he was sleeping that night I spent at his place. I would probably forget the smell of his car or the songs he played, heck I might even forget the look of suppressed shock on his mother’s face the second he told her I was sleeping over, priceless though as it was...

But I won’t forget the feeling of total honesty. Of coming home. Of knowing that I knew someone, totally, inside out, without pretense and without compromise. And that feeling gives me a sense of victory. Something I know I could draw on when I feel like I suddenly have no idea who the person I’m holding hands with. Like right now.

--

PS: The threads this tapestry my life is composed of... it’s a hella difficult stitching with. But if one steps back and looks at it, it’s not so bad. I can’t wait to see until it’s finished...

I Need A Fluffy Pillow

ok. so. while the universe had a lot of fun last weekend at my expense, mother nature has been using my poor red nose as a basketball. i have a cold that is on full force and it cannot be stopped by any drugs, legal or otherwise. and the only way i can speak clearly is by typing.

the unshakeable horrible feelings in me have been mixing up quite gloriously, i can't tell which is which anymore. bug still isn't talking with me because of a misunderstanding which occurred last friday night. my being a techno-monster got the best of me and told him my toys are more important than him (with impressive conviction i might add) -- something one should not be disclosing to a significant other. i apologized yesterday. i told him it was a bit insensitive, what i said, but also he should know that i didn't mean what i said, albeit not 100%. (i'm too honest, no?)

i also wasn't able to meet up with a friend who spent the weekend here in manila from davao. i wanted to go, really i did, but apart from my nose which ceased to show signs of life, things just keep getting in the way. things, like what happened with another friend... which is just too screwed up for words. and another thing, which is very close to my heart, has been recovering from something serious for three days already, but i still won't be able to see until a few more days. i slept at 7PM last night from sheer exhaustion, frustration, and without resolution.

simply put, my weekend has been anything but fine.

bamboo's masaya is still in my player -- on repeat for five straight days now. (play count: 813 times.) and it doesn't look like i will be playing another song in the near future.

Worthwhile Distraction

alright! discovering the power of blogger has ignited the webbie in me. i created another blog solely for the purpose of mobile blogging.

pinoyexchange used to have this forum way way waaaaay back when i was still an active member -- the wireless journals. it used to be really fun (and not to mention really healthy) having to post on the web from any place at any time.

and, oh yeah, it was also thru wireless journal that i got to meet aajao.

ok, i feel like ending the post there. lol.

This Time Using My Phone

Gosh if this works, it'll take a load off my back.

Go MoBlogging!

Technology is delicious. Numnum.

Hyun's Story

And yet again, like this post about half a year back, I speak in third person. These are the times when I want to step back and figure out if something is seriously wrong with me. It would seem like it doesn't do much good, and at the same time, there is little else I could do about it (save for ingesting more coffee)... but yes, I write a story.

I couldn't remember looking at a mirror which was intact. In some ways, there was always some crack or chip, and the image becomes distorted. Little fragments fall off and I try to pick them up, seeing how my eyes look at that particular piece, and how different it stares back at me from the other pieces. I feel like I don't know myself sometimes. So yes, I write stories.

They say when you look at a mirror, and look through it, and you see your eyes staring back at you... you see Despair. Well then. From that gaze, I weave an unfinished portrait of Despair -- of someone named Hyun...

--

Hyun walked to the door staggering. Hypersensitivity assaulted his senses in his state of half-drunkenness. Silence was supposed to be blanketing the whole night, but it seemed even the slightest midnight breeze made a sort of un-musical sound in his ears. Hyun didn’t find it unpleasant at all. He didn’t mean to, but a chuckle escaped from the confines of his mouth. And it evoked the most exhilarating feeling.

He found himself in front of the door a few uneasy steps after. He couldn’t feel the keys on his hand, but he definitely knew he was holding it since the jangling reverberated around the sides of his face like a mad aura scrambling to his ear. Leaning on the door, struggling to put the keys into the keyhole, he let out a chuckle again. He licked his lips, letting the aftertaste of gin (or was it vodka) fill his senses again...

And then he stopped. And the wind stopped. And the crickets. And it seemed the like the only thing the whole cosmos focused on was his breathing. He didn’t even notice the keys falling from his sweaty hand. Didn’t even hear it fall.

He tasted the bitter ghost of gin on his lips. And he remembered the intermingling vodka aftertaste was Michael’s kiss.

Michael. Little Mikey. They’d been best friends since they were little and it seemed he only heard the name now. The usual nickname even felt alien to his ears, to his brain. Even the face was different… And this time he wanted to chuckle but his mouth wouldn’t let one out.

He decided not to go in the house first. He knew if he did, he wouldn’t have time anymore to think about what he has to think about. He wouldn’t have time anymore to close what it was he needed to close.

He looked down and caught the glint of his keys. He picked it up and put it on his pocket. He sat down on the wooden floor. And then he let the alcohol do its work on his memory...

(cont'd...)

Full Moon This Morning

kids today. so full of energy. all of it used for evil. my 2-year old nephew, josh, has been playing with the laundry. i've been telling him to stop, even tempting him with candies and chocolates and disgusting things he can slush his hands on, but to no avail.

so instead, i took a picture of his widdle boo boos. enough to make my day. heh. early lesson in blackmail.

         

Paghimlay (Ngayon, Alas Quatro Ng Umaga)

nag-aalinlangang panaginip
ang paglubog-litaw ng paghinga
sa gabing di mawari kung totoo

sa dilim lahat naantala
hindi maisip kung panlinlang ba
ang sayaw ng mga anino sa mata

marahil ay hangin
marahil ay ulan
ang mapanuksong pag-ibig ng umaga

at kung sakaling nagmumulto lamang
ang galaw ng bawat salitang dalita
ang ikot ng elisi sa aking isipan--

totoo ka
totoo ka
totoo ka...

OMG

OMG I LOVE THIS SONG BAMBOOS MASAYA OMFG OMGF I HAVE TO HAVE THIS OMG I WANT A COPY OH JEEZ I HEARD THIS THE FIRST TIME AND I WAS LIKE OH MY FREAKIN GODS THIS IS JUST SO SAD I COULD DIE DAMNIT IT KILLS ME OMG OMG OMG OH NO OH NO IT'S ALMOST OVER OMG NU 107 NOW NOW NOW NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111111ONEONEONE

--

ako'y malungkot na naman
amoy chico na ako
ilang TAGAY na hindi pa rin tulog
tanong ko lang sa langit
kung bakit pumangit
nung dumating MASAYA
ngayo'y panay problemang
bumabalot sa BUTO
bakit ganito

ang pag-ibig
ganyan talaga
pag BAGO pa ang pag-ibig
ganyan talaga
masaya

pagkagising ko
nakita ko si juan
na syang ADIK
sa aming lugar

parang DROGA daw ang bisa
na ginamit niya kanina
sa una lang daw
MASARAP

ang pag-ibig
ganyan talaga
ako'y NILAMON ng pag-ibig
ganyan talaga
masaya

ang PAG-IBIG
ganyan talaga
ako'y nilamon ng pag-ibig
ganyan talaga
masaya...

--

pucha kung enabled lang sana ang audioblogger dito, kinanta ko na e, pramis! tangina! hindi ko kinaya!

[ lyrics via ]