I can't stop thinking about you.

I started to sing your songs when I was 16, and I didn't know the tragedy of a man I so admired. Why do I have to fall inlove with such a man of talent? So far and so unreachable, this is a frustration I can't quite shake off my existence. Meanwhile, I do believe that you and I will grow old together, and I will make sure that my children will know of your greatness and yes, your amazing vocal range! Well anyway, jeff, if ever you visit earth, can you visit me? Lets have wine and pasta together, or go to a burger joint that has an essence of the past, or a diner, preferably a 90's diner. Which will sickeningly remind me of you, that you are dead, an angel that fell on the ears of the millions of a few selected people. Exclusively in on your secrets, your life. We are one behind you. We oftentimes think about you, share your death stories to people who don't know you, your songs will be sung for centuries, I know so. I am very sure, for I will be the one singing them, lullabies for my children, even though they might be multicultural. Anyway, your voice is the sex, the body and the soul of my current vision of life, sad, a little nostalgic but forever 90's. Jeff Buckley, we could be so happy baby.

Human Interactions

Millions of people are seeking ways to forget what is painful for them the most.

They try to suppress their feelings of loneliness, longing and painful love.

But what is very surprising though, that many folks can get along without all that pain.

Especially me, I am giving my time to forget about love that is forgotten. I would love to focus my energy 

on the people who care about me, because I matter to them. My presence somehow makes them feel better.

But if I have no use to those other people. then fuck it and forget it. Unconditional love is not ready for me yet, I ain't a fucked up virgin mary or a mother of any kind, not knowing this unconditional love. And I move on pretty quick. Give me an hour and I am great.

Its better to be selfish I guess.

I have been almost 3 months unemployed and that really cannot get to me yet. It is so unreal. I feel excited to go to work but how would I deal with a new life with new people? Other people irritate me nowadays. I don't feel like going out, I am literally loving the bed, sleeping and exercising, cooking and eating and having tea, and having snacks and watching endless movies, my god, isn't that such a great cozy comfortable life?

And half heartedly happy without you motherfucker.

Ciao lovebunny. Go on and fuck yourself.

As A Nation

The Philippines.

We are nation of angry people. We are those that detest art that we think is detrimental to our spirituality. We protest on national establishments to show our disgust to those whoever we wish to direct our anger to. We spit, we burn everything but bibles to show we hate Lady Gaga or The Killers. We admire our own artists after they were only admired by the international press.

We bully, we fight, we cripple those who we think are unrighteous. We will grill Korina Sanchez until she learns how to cry herself to sleep. We will make Noynoy Aquino’s last strands of hair fall out because of our constant criticisms of his government. We glorify churches that cripple our right to sexuality education.

We are a country of extremes.

And then there are those who sit back, relax, and just enjoy all of these goddamn shows. 

Blame It on the Blackstar

       She saw the outline of his body against the light the hotel room emitted. His shirt strewn across the floor, and some packets of a popular rubber brand on the side table of their rented room. He was sleeping soundly, and she could hear the faint sound of the hotel staff outside, and it was already 3am. She was still awake, and she marveled at this man's being. She thought, that foreign love, is a difficult thing to do. She remembered their conversation last night, that they had finally admitted to themselves that this love they think they have wasn't real, while beer was on their lips, and an atmosphere of total surrealism. 

     Maybe the magnitude of their love was too much for them that they they felt sick at the pleasure they were having, just seeing each other, just kissing each other whenever they had a chance. In the jeepney, you know in the 3:00ams of their 7-11 coffee breaks, during conversations that stopped only to grab the minute to feel each other again through their lips. Reminding themselves that everywhere they went were public places. And she remembered how he took her hands and kissed them under the white lights of that nostalgic convenience store, she smelled brewed coffee on his breath, and she longed for it too.

     She felt, that in the longest of all the longest times, she had met one of the most beautiful men on the planet. There was a lullaby that was set deep in her heart only to be awoken by this man she had met three months ago. The whole world, she believed, was right then and there in the hotel room. The beautiful belt that she took off of his pants, and his shirt from Cambodia showing the letters of their alphabet, his hair that she gently touched, his whole idea, his whole existence meant the world to her. She was lost yet secure in this man's heart, for she knew that she will never come across any man like him ever again. She was ever so sure of herself that she wanted to marry this man, if he ever proposed. 

     He said all the right words, she felt that his words were carved out only for her. She imagined a life with him, and it must be so damn delicious to be with this man, laughter was everywhere, they were freakishly careless, though he was 10 years her senior. They were like kids that roamed Angeles City at the early mornings, no one was there. Only a few people to witness their escape from prying eyes. 

    So this man, on the bed with her, she saw his calm existence in the form of his sleep, and she thought to herself that this man doesn't deserve to be hurt by anyone. He was the purest she has ever seen in her life, unlike her, so young and yet so poisoned by the darkness in her life that she wishes to hide. The steady rhythm of his breathing slowly pulled her back to sleep.

She loves him. She does. 

PEPERO LOVE.

I can't stop thinking about this chocolate.
Because one early morning, I saw a man eating eat.
I felt hungry. And I also felt pain in my heart.

I thought the man was like chocolate.
So sweet and yet so unique.
When you consume this chocolate,
it will finish.
Just like this man, when you consume this man
into your thoughts, this man and you, will
finish soon.

I still connect this chocolate to that lovely early morning.
I suddenly miss 7-11, where I bought this.
Oh dear God, give me chocolate.

It's About Time I Admit That I am Stupid

       (Face the fuck out of your fears.)

        I  just realized that you cannot expect the good things in life to be achieved through a shortcut.
Especially if you have pride and and dignity.

Like for example, yes you may have a glittering personality, such good looks, with a good sense of humour, or you are maybe so popular among your peers and your acquaintances, but that, won't really get you anywhere if you didn't use your brain. Your brain was there for a reason, I think a powerful entity to have created us with a brain wanted us to figure out the world by ourselves, otherwise if that entity would have just wanted us to follow things automatically, a brain would be useless.

It really bothers me, that there is a possibility for women and even men to get around life dependent on a rich partner, a rich husband or a rich wife. I cannot fathom this, I do not want to become like this because I have this pride that just bothers me all the time. I cannot let this happen, but under certain circumstances, I find myself always inclined to be lent or given some big amount of money without me asking them. What power is that? What sort of actions that led to this mystery? Is it the fault of their raging hormones?(for specific circumstances Or is it just their genuine kindness that they see me like they have to support me? Do they see an investment in me or am I projecting some sort of atmosphere unto them that I in fact, need some cash? Or does it painfully qualify as gold digging?

For all these people who have supported me financially, so especially, I want to tell you that I want to return all the kindness that you have shown and given me, I do wanna keep this promise and I want to do all good things for you too. I feel the world is giving me such endless possibilities with your money that I sometimes cannot stomach the special treatment. I cannot take it sometimes, it is so uncomfortable to be talking about money, even holding it. I dread it. I really do. In the context of it not being mine.

I feel stupid with money and the lack of it.

I have this dream, to be super rich and then treat all those people to grand vacations because I have felt so much joy and happiness when they saw the misfortune I was going through. Or they saw that, I needed to have some sort of fun with them but not having the cash to do that, they decided to tell me, it is all on them. Right now, all I can give are promises, that will take a long time for me to accomplish. But I hope to gain pride and dignity to help me reach my goals.

----

When it was November 2, maybe 9 days ago. It was my birthday, I was expecting myself to arrive at a resolution, or a new point of view about myself. Thinking how do you improve more, you know some deep random rubble I was going through, my expectations were so high upon myself hoping I can solve this mystery that I am. I started to ask painful questions about myself, my fears, even my shortcomings I needed to face. I invite you to ask these yourself too. Here are the sample questions:

1. Have I hurt somebody?
2. Have I been reckless?
3. Am I not really so sophisticated after all?
4. What are the things I'm afraid of happening?
5. How is my spiritual life?
6. Have I been constantly feeding myself of the information that I am ok?
    not necessarily needing any improvement?
7. Is facebook really damaging, or is it just me that looks at it that way? (applicable to anything)
8. Have I been constantly feeding myself of the information that I am not ok?
    not deserving of any love?
9. Don't I need to change my points of view about certain issues like, purity having to matter in a relationship, or the importance of being loyal to your partner, or what are the compromises do I have to do?
10. Am I ready to accept criticisms almost about everything?
11. What are the things that I am afraid or ready to leave?

These questions are so painful, that after so many days after my birthday, I realize how wrong my principles were for the past couple of months. I had been lost on the road, I didn't know where to go, or what am I going somewhere for? What my purpose was, I was shocked to know my mistakes.
My wrong decisions, the illusion that I am fine, looked up to, or even admired. These aren't real.

Bottom line is we need to accept our mistakes and our weaknesses. The criticisms and the painful words of people to us may be the most honest and the best thing that could ever happen to the improvement of our lives.

That compliments can put our spirits up, yes, but it also invites us to a comfortable zone that we are afraid to leave. Thus giving us the illusion that we are not in need of any upgrading. It is sick, to be put in this place where you think you are glorified by the number of "likes" in your pictures, or how many people are attracted to you, in the long run you will tend to think the whole sum of your existence is ok. But generally, I always think that whoever the hell you are, you might need a little levelling up to do. right?

Being honest to yourself is a hard thing to do, some people don't even know how to start.
Challenge is not how we face tomorrow.

Question is how do we face the next minute of our existence by baring our souls to the mirror?


(I would gladly accept comments and conversations about this article. If you have questions, please feel free to message me. I am interested in your opinion. Cheers!)

The Problem With Distance

I can't wait to see you, in another plane of existence.
We will escape the lands we think we know.
We will hold hands in the sun rays of a different convergence.
I will seek your breath to consume the warmth to extinguish the cold
of the air.
I will forever cherish the romance we think we have.
Or to cherish the love we strive to have.
We will annihilate the distance of our countries.
Regain the romance so short that we had.
To wear thick boots to tread on dangerous routes to the top.

I wanna see yellow sand with you.

I'm such a fucking realistic romantic.

Some idle time causes my mind to wander about clothes.

       Age comes with the initiative for one to dress well. When I was a teenager, it never crossed my mind to dress formally, or dress for success. But now, I have caught myself in the obsession to look well for a job, or wherever  I go. When I was 15 or something, I described style as "trash." Well basically, I never had thought about buying expensive clothes that time.

      But now, I am even considering the reason behind why clothes are expensive and why people should even buy them.
       I find great traces of my teenage inclinations in my fashion style now, but slowly they are fading. Now, I am trying to consider this important part of me about dressing up for me. Fashion is important to me at some specific moments. But at times, I am just so totally carefree.

I even went around in a shirt, with a pair of denimshorts and without a bra. And its amazing how I even managed to feel good about that.

I wore fishnet stockings, a denim sleeveless top, high heeled boots and a grungy hairstyle on my graduation day. I looked like I was looking for a great fight with anyone who would want to question or raise any eyebrow about my attire. And I liked it!

      Sometimes, my fashion is totally reckless and so bad.

Anyway.

Gotta think of something more relevant to write about. Hahaha