Dear Time

Hootie and the Blowfish once crooned,"Time, why you punish me?" I guess, because, time is gold(en).

Is that the reason why some people are toying with the idea of controlling it?

I chanced upon "Flash Forward" during my usual channel surfing. Learning the plot from its trailer, it's a wonder how;

1. time will stop for 2minutes and 17 seconds
2. people will get a glimpse of their future

They call these glimpses as "flashes"(Flashback, warm nights--I just remembered Cyndi Lauper). Either you had a good future or bad. For some who didn't get any, just like the character played by John Cho (playing Agent Demetri Noh), their fate was death in the following months.

I'm not much a follower as I always fall asleep at certain episodes-the marathon was being shown during my 'bedtime' at Fox. The last episode I watched was when Dylan (an injured kid in the series, sorry, don't know his real name), confuses reality with his flash and goes straight to the house of the Benfords, repeatedly saying; "My house too."

It's perplexing to see your present as your past, that is how I interpreted that scene. It could be one of the reasons for the perpetrators of the tim-freezing and flashes, if that is one of their agendas- to control what would be "the present" months from now.

If I could do it the other way around, create a time-freeze moment BUT have everything go back, six months from now...will it make a difference, six months after? Maybe, knowing my often regretful-self. Realizing something significant after a few moments or even days...ok, even months.

I would have started a different approach, long-termplanning,an earlier weeding of the garden, a better decision by taking a big risk, changing the silence, etc? Or I could just appreciate what is "now" and move forward. Grow some cells for the brain.

No matter how cliche it may sound, time is really gold. You can't get it back. Maybe,thru some works of fiction ...so, let me grab my gardening tools, the zombies are about to eat my brains. I need more peashooters.

The Planner

Let's say that I have friend, and she had been planning her wedding for twenty-seven years already...

From the vows, to the place, the people, the theme-up to the smallest details....dress, flowers, the song...Her eyes are twinkling as she describes how everyone marches before her. And she knows by heart the lyrics of the song she had marked as her wedding march. She had memorized it, the day she first heard it.

She could just feel how her groom would look at her, would she be so old by then? She smiled as she imagine his fingers intertwining with hers as he sashays her towards the steeple wherein they would exchange their vows and commitment. It would have to be...amor, fides, respectus. Or something close to it, that would definitely bring everyone to tears...

Let's say, she even knows what to do after the wedding vows, she said...she would dance, with one hand waving free. Because, she has long said goodbye to too-much sadness. And when she throws the gerbera daisies, she knows whose hands will grab it. She could just hear their girlish giggles...


It may rain or not, but she doesn't mind, as long as it is simple and complete.

It doesn't matter if she gets sand in her eyes, or the groom sneezes because she sprayed too much of the Dolce and Gabbana Light Blue....It could be sunset or it could be sunrise. As long as the families are there. The friends are there...and the groom will be there...

Nah, my friend and her silly girlish thoughts. Why can't she be like me? I don't make plans...too much.

The Bottle Series / Ang Serye ng Bote

Note: These were created four years ago. Spirits were bottled up on pieces of scratch papers, emo-blasts!

Series I

The cure, for my bottled up feelings, is this cold bottle. I cling on to it. And my grasp made me feel pain...Then I cried, and I cry (repeat) until exhaustion ate me.

The cure, which I asked for more and more (repeat) made my alert eyes plummet down to the floor. And I choked at the hazy smoke - and he just said, enough is enough. For the reason...is the cure and the cure is this bottle.

Series II (Ikalawang Serye)

Sabi ng bote;
Iwanan mo na
Pero sabi ko naman:
Hindi ko kaya

Sabi ng bote (na galit na galit):
Gumising ka muna
Pero sabi ko:
Mahirap gawin, ayoko muna

Umikot-ikot ang bote sa aking paningin
(nakapamaywang ata)
Siya's naiinis sa'kin

Ilang araw..gabi ka nang umiiyak sa'kin
Ilang yelo ang tinunaw mo
Dahil sa hindi mo siya kayang iwanan,
Dahil sa ano?

Nais na ng boteng ito na magpatihulog sa sahig,
Na magpatihulog sa sahig
Nais na niyang magwala sa buwisit
Ngunit--

Mahirap gawin ang sinasabe ng bote,
Dahil sa magulong-magulo...
Dahil sa bote na 'to, nagkatama ako.

Series III

If I wore my sunglasses, I would lose my sense of direction. I wanted to drink,But my stomach churned and I say shit...I am inhaling the crusted carpet. And being worn out, just threw me away literally. No brakes, stops or halts. Just screaming...

I'm writing though, with my disheveled self...yak-scented hair, and it has to keep on going. No grammar, rules or policies. No nothing and cliche might be a part of this abundant falling story.

I'm not high, never been high. Just burnt out, totally in-gratified??? Reach me away...I was waiting for a desperate change. And you call me pathetic, 'cause I wanted that word...I don't know why I like to say, such phrases and words like a pathetic dummy...

A big gooey gummy balled into full of shit and screech...

Series IV (Ikaapat na Serye)

Buntong-hininga.
At muli, ako'y napabulong ng mura.

Malabo, unti-unting bumabalik sa dati.
Noong una, isa, dalawa, umabot sa tatlo.

Hilo na ngunit nais ituwid ang lakad,
Dahil kaya pa kitang titigan

Buntong-hininga...
Inulit pa,
At kung kaya ko,
Dahil hindi na tumitila...

Series V (Ikalimang Serye)

Nakikita mo ba ito? (bote na pawis sa lamig)
Ganito siya kalabo
Ganito rin siya kalinaw...(yelo sa bucket)

Nakikita mo ba ito? (sisig)
Ganito siya kagulo
..ako rin ata. Ganito kagulo...

Hindi ko alam, pero nag-aya ako,
Kasi gusto kong gumapang pauwi,
Parang sundalo,
Dahil nagrerebelde ako,
Pero ganito,
Ganito ako kagulo...

Series VI (Ika-anim na Serye)

Isang malutong na mura. Dahil hanggang ngayon kahit sampung beses na akong nagsipilyo at nagmumog, nalalasahan ko pa rin ang bangis ni Jose, kung si Jose nga talaga yan.

Ang tapang mo kasi, alas-dose na ng tanghali, nag-shot ka pa. Sana, kumuha ka na lang uli ng Santong Miguel.

Siguro nga, kasi nakikiramay ka lang. O sadyang, nakikisama. Haler, iniwan mo sila noon 'di ba? Saktong sakto lang ang pagkawala ko sa hulog kanina.

Pero, isang malutong na mura ulit. Hinding-hindi na talaga ako dadayo ke Jose.

Hmm, depende sa hulog.
to be continued/itutuloy

Journal 2

And then they roam the place,
like drops of rain pouring down your face.
A hand wipes the rain off your eyes,
this you feel but you do not realize.

It was hanging on the edge of the walls,
you crumble with it as it falls.
Each tiny fragment, the hand pulls for you,
only then you started to think, then you knew.

Then, you thought,
...would it stay and shove the darkness like the medieval knight?
Or would it cast you off once you are a fearful sight?

You let it be, you let it stay,
although you know it shouldn't be that way.
When the sun drew the air out of the evening you see,
that looking just at the eyes wouldn't be.
There would be times that it would flicker and almost die,
but when must you cover yourself a lie?

You tear all the thoughts that scared you out,
you bloat them, you beat them in a bout.
You threw the visor like a skin,
so it would know what's within.

It didn't laugh, it didn't scream, it didn't leave,
it stayed like you can not believe.

Ghosts are for grievers, lies are for ghosts--they haunt you down
..until you mind,
it heard the day and night as it eats the time.
Then you held the hand like you do with the ancient tiles...
and the tiny drops of rain withdrew into a thousand of miles.

If You Click on Edit

I dreamed of a giant eraser. Or a life-like edit link or delete button.
That is why, today is unique. Because it coexists with yesterday. And is the possible cause of tomorrow.


So, let's do this again.

Hi, how was your day?
Not too good. I'm emotionally and mentally drained...
Yeah, mine too.
Why?
Same old, same old, you?
Yeah, same old, same old.
Still, there's something we can be thankful for, for today,
Yes, I think so. We do.
Sunshine, waves, laces, daisies and the sand...


Instead,

Blasted blahs. Me, me, me.
And then, zipped out. Clammed up. Buttoned up. Shut up.

A Candid Cane

She used to be like me. Or so, she used to speak fiery and hurtful words, just like me. And when I said used to, it's obviously because she doesn't or can't find it in her old and tired self, to speak such words again.

Before, she could steadfastly walked with us from their antique house towards my cousins' place, a good 10-15 minute-walk with two lanky girls; one was all-girl get up while the other was boyish. The latter was me.

She would often scold us for playing with the kids nearby, because, they were a smelly bunch. We fear that she would be so frustrated with us that we have to finish the food she prepared even though me and my sister were full. And then later, Ate and I will throw up.

She had said brutally honest words with us, watching by her side. She cried when her mother died. She laughed when she feels like it. I have often wondered how she could be so candid about certain things and issues. I think she has mastered the art of brutal honesty. Saying what she thinks and feels, without even batting an eyelash.

I say this, but don't mean that she is a bad person. She holds our family together, binding us whenever we felt obligated to the point of making excuses, because we were so lazy (or just because) to see each other.

She once watched me while I was sleeping on the couch and gave one of her rarest claims; "Aba, maganda pala 'tong apo ko no?" I don't know, it may be old age...

And now, as she holds on to my arm for support while the other hand holds her cane, I think I have forgotten the words she once said to people she knew and cared for...even if they were spiteful and sometimes, hurtful to sensitive ears.

Her voice was trembling as she told me how difficult it was for her to see her food, the ground that she's walking on and she said, she can't even see my face anymore. She quietly thanked the Lord for prosperity however, she cannot stop telling herself, how hard it was already...maybe because, she was not used to being dependent on others. Just like me....

Silently, I know, we may have rebutted on some of the things she said before...and that made me think, it's not too late for a mean girl to slowly change. Just like her, nothing can be done overnight. Borrowing Fiona Apple's words, "I've been a bad, bad girl...". Plus, it doesn't mean you'll let go of candidness...after all, mataray ang lola ko. It's in the blood...

Dear Me!

I don't hate you because you're beautiful(or so you think). I hate you because you're stupid. By the way, you are not, beautiful. You are a *bleep*(edited due to the degree of evilness of the word).

Hate is a strong feeling. And because I am resolving my conflict with immaturity, I did not use the word despise. Recently, I was given a refresher by Life and Fate, about "unfair". Fate just told me that Life is not always fair, so I have to deal with it. I felt tired of complaining and talking about it...because I know what Life and Fate has just taught me.

Unfair is when something has happened that you felt and/or know is prejudiced and unjust. I am imagining a scale now tipping on its left side lower than the right one. That is so freaking hateful.

But, as far as the Java Man was concerned, he knew he had to be "unfair" for survival. I just don't want to survive. I want to live. One of the greatest quote from Wall-E. Three D and kiddie movie and programs really give out matured dialogues and quotes. You just have to be smart enough to catch some, if not all, of them.

So Java Man or men, or boys whatever, chose to be unfair...let's go back to my root cause analysis chamber. Here, the fundamentals of maturity plays a big role in my way of reasoning, thinking and sometimes, feeling.

Cause: I felt hatred
Why?: Because, Java Boys (I decided, they are boys, for now) are unfair.
Why?: Because they made a decision that seems to have been done out of sheer desperation
Why?: Because it seems that they're being overly-utilized for tasks (theirs? or not theirs?)

Endless whys...Gimme a break.

Maybe, I am just being selfish and childish. Or, I needed a kiss of appreciation. And since we are still here in the chamber of my matured self, I am plotting my game plan, although, this is not a game, I have no other terms for it. I will be wearing my reasoning cap along with my happy thoughts.

For all I know, you are a *bleep*(edited due to the degree of evilness of the word).