Should I cry when you die?

*another free-writing exercise. i'm still deciding if this is a poem, or a simple blog entry. heniweys...*


Should I cry when you die?

Should I cry
When you die?

Should I shed tears...
Real tears?

When all we had was fleeting...
Temporal and almost imaginary

Like a dream
That I desperately want to recall
As soon as I open my eyes

I think I felt your lips touch mine
But somehow I cannot trust my memory

Did I just want it bad enough
To actually happen

That the crevices in my brain
Decided to store this picture
As part of my reality

When does reality end...
And when does imagination begin?

So when you die
Should I grieve like we had a connection?

Or should I just feign indifference
And forget how in my memory
I felt the warmth of your breath
Against my face

Should I grieve for that fleeting moment
When I felt your heartbeat against my chest

When during that particular moment in time...
I felt that there is an 'us'

Maybe it was all in my head
So if grieve I must
It must be like that kiss
Fleeting, temporal, almost imaginary

Is it just Fata morgana?
They say that when you look into the horizon long enough
You will see images

But is this just that?
Fata Morgana
To drown me
And lure me to my own death?

Reality is relative they say.
Maybe in the future
Reality would prove me wrong

Much like the fact
That Pluto is not a planet
Or that there are 4 states of matter
Or that the earth is round

Maybe someday
Time would finally prove
That there was an 'us'

Yes
I think I will cry
When you die

I will shed real tears
For that version of reality
Which I remembered

It's my reality
My tears
So I will cry
When you die


16 June 2011
1:15am
Thursday
Gotham

37

37 is a special number for me.

i am now 37 years old.

it is said that 37 is the commonly accepted average core body temperature (taken internally) -- 37.0 °C. this must mean something good, right? not too hot, not too cold... just right... exactly what Goldilocks thought of Baby Bear's porridge... it's right for the eating.

it is also said that there are 37 holes in the mouthpiece of the old telephone unit, just the right number for the person at the other end to hear you speak. there are also 37 bars in the digits of a digital watch, just enough for us to tell the time.

so this year must be just that for me... JUST RIGHT.

just right -- to let go of the old and make way for the new.

just right -- to feel the highs as well as the lows.

just right -- to see the light, without being blinded.

just right -- to appreciate the rainbow after a heavy downpour

just right -- to feel comfortable in the dark, while waiting for that faint flicker of light

just right -- to prepare for the worst, while hoping for the best

just right -- to taste the bitter, to appreciate the sweetness of life

just right -- to know and pursue battles which i can win, and walk away from those that i can't

just right -- to take on big challenges, while not forgetting life simple pleasures

just right -- to enjoy solitude, while not being too comfortable with it

just right -- to play fair.. love light... live life.

thank you for being part of my life for the past 36 years.

this day starts another fabulous year for me. i invite you to join my journey :)

Suspended

As soon as the plane takes off from the runway... i feel my life go on pause.


The flight, however short it may be, becomes a break for me... a break from my life.


Just as the plane is suspended in mid-air, my life takes on a state of suspension -- nothing happens, at least during the duration of the flight. I don't make any decisions. I don't interact with anyone (i don't make small talk with my fellow passengers). I don't need to work. I don't need to worry about anything. My life simply takes a standstill.


These "short breaks" from my life helps me keep my sanity. It gives me a rest from life's daily grind.


It's another world altogether when i'm up there. A world which is not necessarily better, but just different... very different.


08:15pm
08 May 2011
Sunday
My Shoebox

confession

i love the way you remember the small details about me...

i love how you play the guitar quietly, without being a show-off...

i love that you love to write... so simply, so eloquently...

i love the fact that like me, you love good music...

i love that you were born with an artist's hand...

i love that you and i share the same hobby, the same passion...

i love that you care about people -- their rights and their lives...

i love how confidently you speak in front of people...

i love how you make me, and others, laugh...

i love how you brushed your lips against my forehead, and whispered something inaudible... when you thought that i couldn't hear...

i love that we use the same expressions...

i love how you visit my dreams, and make my nights feel warm...

i love how you made me feel special... at that particular moment...

and how i would love to go back to that time... again... and again... and again...


10:45pm
15 March 2011
Tuesday
Ladprao
(on a rainy night)

telepono at lovelife

ang lovelife, parang phone call.

minsan, short and sweet -- hello and goodbye.

minsan naman, parang dropped call -- biglang naglalaho parang bula, leaving you in limbo.

minsan pangit ang signal -- madaming issues at miscommunication.

minsan, parang unlimited call -- pangmatagalan... swerte ka pag nagkataon. pero delikado din, lalo na pag boring ang conversation.

minsan naman, parang missed call -- samakatuwid... paasa lang. lintek!

minsan din, parang booty call -- alam mong pampalipas oras lang.

pero malas ka, kung hindi phonecall, at text lang -- matipid, malabo, non-commital. parang yung kahaba-haba ng sinabi mo... tapos ang sagot lang ay... "k". at wala man lang smiley face.



11:25am
09 March 2011
Fairyland

Travel

I badly need some rest. I've been travelling for the past 2 weeks, and it's not fun.

I used to get very excited with travel opportunities. Heck, riding on airplanes and staying in airports used to give me a certain kind of high. Now, I just feel tired.

Can't wait for my one-week leave.


4:10pm
06 March 2011
Sunday
Phnom Penh, Cambodia

love poem

IF I WAS A LOVE POET

I want you to bite my lips until I can no longer speak,

and then suck my ex-girlfriend’s name out of my mouth just to make sure that she never comes up in our conversations.

I’m gonna be honest;

I’m not really a love poet.

In fact every time I try to write about love,

my hands cramp,

just to show me how painful love can be.

Sometimes my pencils break,

just to prove to me that every now and then love-

takes a little bit more work than you planned.

See, I heard that love is blind,

so I write all my poems in Braille.

And my poems are never actually finished because true love is endless.

See, I always believe that real love is kind of like a supermodel before she’s airbrushed.

It’s pure,

and imperfect,

just the way that God intended.

I’m gonna be honest;

I’m not a love poet.

But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love… I swear that my first poem-

it would be about you.

About how I love you the same way that I learned how to ride a bike:

Scared.

But reckless.

With no training wheels, or elbow pads, so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you.

You see, I’m not really a love poet.

But if I was,

I’d write about how I see your face in every cloud and your reflection in every window.

You see, I’ve written like a million poems hoping that somehow,

maybe some way you’ll jump out of the page and be closer to me because if you were here,

right now,

I would massage your back until your skin sings songs that your lips don’t even know the words.

Until your heartbeat sounds like my last name,

and you smile like the Pacific Ocean-

I want to drink the sunlight in your skin.

If I was a love poet,

I’d write about how you have the audacity to be beautiful,

even on days when everything around you is ugly.

You see, I’d write about your eyelashes and how they’re like violin strings that play symphonies every time you blink.

If I was a love poet,

I’d write about how I melt in front of you like an ice sculpture every time I hear the vibration in your voice.

And whenever I see your name on the caller ID, my heart-

it plays hopscotch inside of my chest.

It climbs on to my ribs like monkey bars and I feel like a child all over again.

I know this sounds strange but every now and then,

I pray that God somehow turns you back into one of my ribs just so I would never have to spend an entire day without you.

But I swear,

I’m not a love poet.

But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning,

and decide that I really wanted to write about love,

you’re my first poem; it would be about you.

Now, after all of that, she was like,

“So how do you feel about me?”

And I said,

“Let’s put it like this:

I want to be your ex-boyfriend’s stuntman.

I want to do everything that he never had the courage to do, like-

trust you.

I swear that when our lips touch,

I can taste the next sixty years of my life.

And some days I want to swallow stacks of your pictures just (so) you can be part of me a bit longer.

If I could,

I would sample your smile,

and then I would let my heartbeat do the bass line.

We would create the greatest love song of all time.

Whenever we stand next to each other-

love, I was the only one made for you,

and you-

can be at last, my Etta James.

I’ll be all child when you’re in pain.

Or you can be candy-coated drops of rain even though it never rains in Southern California.

And together,

we could be music.

And when my friends ask if you’re my girlfriend,

I’ll say,

NO.

She is my musician.

And me…

I’m her favorite song.”

IF I WAS A LOVE POET

by Rudy Francisco

==========

new addition to my Bahasa vocabulary:
malu = torpe

==========

pizza on a rainy saturday night
8:15pm
26 February, 2011
Menteng, Jakarta, Indonesia

Midlife

I wonder... is there such a thing as a midlife-crisis?

I mean... when do you know what you are actually living half of your life?

And is it really a crisis?

Isn't it that our lives are defined by the choices that we do. So why should we go through all these introspection, when in fact, this exercise should have been used in each and every thing that we do?

Will everyone go through this phase? SHOULD everyone go through this?

Hmmmm... ano sa tingin mo?



5:50pm
02 Feb 2011
Wednesday
Bangkok
(with Chippy Red... heaven!)

January is a bad month

i just realized, all my kurowt-kirowt moments are always in january:

January 2005 - Dahil kay K
January 2007 - Dahil kay B
January 2009 - Dahil kay T
January 2011 - Dahil kay M

next year, this will all change. January will be a good month for me.


6:45pm
14 January 2011
Friday
Phnom Penh, Cambodia

Toast

(free writing)

*this is my wish for 2 good friends who are about to tie the knot*

again, congratulations to the both of you! i am so glad i am here now, making this wish for you.

flashback to 2 years ago... things were very different.

it was in December 2008 when they were introduced... Henry's Grill in Teacher's Village. then next in Trellis Resto also in Teacher's Village.

it was in Trellis that i felt that there was sumthin sumthin between them. she was fidgety and he was more than friendly. hmmm...

when he left, i remember her saying... "How nice it would be to hug someone". i thought... yun na yun!

then he became more visible in our gimicks and activities, after having been almost unreachable for 2 years!

he started giving out home-made yoghurts...

we are suddenly invited to a lot of dinners and coffees and shoots...

they suddenly both had suncellular phones...

we were like watching a telenovela unfold right before our eyes... over pasta and adobo... over wine and cheese... over beer and sisig.

she used to tell me that she is afraid to jump (into the relationship). she cannot simply follow her mentor's advice to "Lundagin mo, baby". she said that she's afraid to jump, because there might be no one to catch her when she falls.

you should not be afraid now. you can jump as high as you can, with eyes closed or with eyes wide open. you don't have to look for someone to catch you. because now, you both have each other, to hold hands, while going for the jump.

so for you both...

May you experience passion beyond your wildest imagination.

May you continue to find love for each other in places that astound you.

May you go barefoot more than you wear shoes.

May you laugh harder than you cry.

May you discover more happy corners together.

May you never, ever stop dreaming... loving.. jumping.

congratulations again!

jump!... lagto!... lumpat!... lundag!

Taguan

Olly olly oxen free...




11:30pm
Friday
10 December 2010
Human Rights Day
Dharamshala, India

bato

para sa iyo, Nonoy...

bato ka nang bato... baka tamaan ako...

bughaw

and i ask you...

what do you do when you got the blues?

la dolce far niente

note:
this is a letter sent to my Dyosas (a group of empowered, wonderful, phenomenal women)



la dolce far niente.

i haven't done this for the longest time.

i saw Eat Pray Love last night. i realized that i've taken for granted life's simples pleasures for too long -- just lying on my bed, listening to soothing music, eating lazily and slowly, people watching, engaging in talks about life and existence.

i'm like a stone on a constant roll. i think it's time to gather some moss.

if i'm not working hard, i'm usually partying hard.

now i'm ready... for lafang, luhod, landi (Girard's version of Eat Pray Love).

it's a sunday today.

i'm on the daybed, listening to Up Dharma Down, sipping white coffee from Penang, reading the lifestyle section of the Bangkok Post, checking ONLY my personal mails and social networking sites.

i can say that i've found my balance -- between working and playing. now, i'm ready to lose that balance. Ds, i guess it's time to cross over, to gather some moss, to toss up your heart, and just see where it lands. (well, i guess Mai and Imee will be doing this soon).

happy sunday, Ds! enjoy la dolce far niente :)


31 October 2010
Sunday
Lad Prao Soi 1

Of loving and flying

Seen from a friend's Facebook status:

Love, is a lot like airports. Its characterized by arrivals and departures. But for the most part, its about waiting. What matters is what we do in between.
- Ramille Andag

Photo:
Suvarnabhumi Airport
Bangkok

Never Bored

I wonder how some people can get bored with their lives.

I never get bored.

In fact, I feel that there's so many things that I want to do (read books, watch movies, sketch, read photography articles), but can't... because there's simply not enough time.

With work, frequent travels, Thai language class, social networking sites (Facebook and Twitter), maintenance of Kiddie Toes Montessori School's website, meeting and talking to friends... my life is sooo full!

I always find myself needing more hours in a day, that I had to make a daily schedule (and yes, that's the OC in me). In fact, my friends tease me for having this hourly schedule and alarm... they say I need to schedule even when I breathe. I just find a great deal of satisfaction when at the end of the day, I see that I've crossed out almost all of the things in my "To Do List".

So what's the point in this ranting? I will never understand how people can get bored in their lives. There's just too many things to discover, too many places to see, and too many experiences to try.

Simply put... there's not enough time.


8:40pm
20 October 2010
Wednesday
Lad Prao Soi 1
Fairyland

Tamad

Tamad... Lazy...

That's what I have been for the past months. The last piece I wrote was my necrological speech for Daddy. That was 9 months ago! What's wrong with me?

I can't say that I have nothing to talk about, because since then, I've got my passport stamped 18 times.

I can't say that I haven't met new friends because I've met more than 20 new friends since then.

I can't say that I haven't experienced new unforgettable things. On the contrary, I've visited my family and friends in Seattle...met US Senator Nancy Pelosi... experienced the pain of Indonesian Kerokan... partied in a gay pub... got fondled by a gay guy... tasted fried flowers... walked with the Red Shirt rallyists... had a picture with one of the Red Shirt leaders... enrolled in Thai language class... went to a male show in Silom... experienced 2 weeks of curfew in Bkk... spent my bday in a really expensive bar overlooking Bkk and wearing a really nice dress... met a Cambodian cab driver in DC who lived in Palawan as a refugee... visited the Killing Fields... and so much more!

My life is so full.

Maybe it's so full that I don't know how to put all these experiences into writing.

So I will need to muster enough inspiration to write... write... and write some more. But in the meantime, I invite you visit my Facebook site and my Flickr site.



5:55pm
10 October 2010
Sunday
Lad Prao Soi 1

Notes for Daddy

I was able to get into Daddy's yahoo and facebook account. I kept browsing his inbox hoping to find something, anything which will remind me of him when he was still alive.

And I found these two messages from his younger sisters:

FROM EVA
Subject: Manong Emmong

I was shocked when we heard the sad news, I told Myrna, and Nora right away and they were speechless. Our favorite brother is gone...forever but you will always be in our hearts.You talked to each one of us on New Year's Eve, that's was a long talked, the first time you did, your voice seemed very strong and well, yun pala yun na ang last na pag-uusap natin.You were Inang's favorite of all the 7 siblings because you were so sickly when you were young but we did not get jealous, instead we spoiled you and gave you all the love. Imagine growing up with 4 sisters! That was fun di ba? You were always nice and kind to us very soft spoken, funny and you always help us in our math homeworks, because you're the best in math.I remember when u came to visit us here in Los Angeles, Nora and Myrna were so excited. We showed you around and everyday we were very hospitable enough to show you all the nice places here. We knew you were very tired but very happy because at least you were with your three younger sisters again. That was a short visit and memorable. Manong Guilly, wherever you are, we love you so much and still the favorite brother. You will be missed.

Your ading,
Eva


FROM MYRNA
Subject: for you

"For my brother EMMONG, you were a very good person inside and out, loved by a lot of peaple. you will be missed by the whole family I want to say i love you, and i know that you are now in the good hands of GOD our creator. missing you,

from your sister
myrna

My new favorite quote

Watch your thoughts, for they become words.
Watch your words, for they become actions.
Watch your actions, for they become habits.
Watch your habits, for they become character.
Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny

(Mao Zedong)


Cable-landia
14 Sept

Muse

here i am...

still looking for my muse...

i think i saw him...

but am i his?



7:45pm
08 September, 2010
Wednesday
My shoebox , Sunny Villas