alone

Sunday, November 18th, 2007

it's raining again.

it's been raining almost unceasingly today. the skies stayed dull and lifeless, throwing  a shadow over everything.

i don't know if i'm happy with the rain today. my heart has been, well…sort of heavy lately. i think it wants to empathize with the weather. to have its own spell of rain. but it only managed a few tears, and then everything dried up. it couldn't focus on a single emotion, because my thoughts wouldn't stay still. they just sort of run amok, and my heart had to run to keep up with them.

sometimes i think that i think too much. i guess that's the price of being alone. one has nothing but one's thoughts for company. we retreat deep inside ourselves because there's no other way to go. we pretend we're better off than we are, we build worlds where the rules are our own, where we find love and live happily ever after.

castles in the air, as strong as the hope that lives inside us, but as fragile as smoke when that hope wavers.

this blog is definitely living up to its name.  

a story of rain

Thursday, November 15th, 2007

11/14/2007

i have a love-hate relationship with rain.

when the rains first came at the turn of the season, i was glad. it
wasn’t just because of the respite from the blistering heat. i don’t
know, somehow it reminded me of childhood and carefree days. days when
STRESS was a word i’ve never even met.

everytime it rained, i wanted to run outside and frolic under the
raindrops, jump into puddles and go splash, splash, splash! i wanted to
make little paper boats and sail them on murky pools of rainwater. I
wanted to have a glass window so I can watch the drops glide down on it.

i remember walking in the rain a few days ago. i had my jacket on, the
hood pulled up over my head. i was giggling to myself, and i made my way
down the street with a foolish grin on my face. i was happy.

i got caught in a fierce downpour once, too, around two weeks ago, on
the way home. i had to walk a block from the jeepney stop to my house,
so i calmly rolled up my jeans, put up my umbrella, and walked leisurely
down the block. laughing to myself, braving the wide puddles, and even
forgiving the drivers who splashed water all over me as they sped by.

people stared at me. but i was happy then, too.

and then there were the days when i wished the rain would just wash me
away into nothingness. for it to batter me down into a useless puddle,
or hammer at me until i vanish into vapor. days when rain’s big cruel
drops became blatant reminders of tears needing to be shed, of bottled
emotions screaming for release. days when i felt like an insignificant
speck of dust being rinsed away, forgotten, alone, unmade.

i had one such night not so long ago. standing on the curb under my
umbrella, wanting to weep, wanting to scream. i felt like my feet had
taken root so i could not move, but the world paid no heed and
arrogantly passed me by, leaving me to the merciless beat of the
raindrops.

o rain, if i should write an ode to thee, it would be bittersweet
indeed.

20 things you wanna tell someone but you know you never will

Tuesday, November 13th, 2007

1. You disappoint me. I thought you could be trusted. Now, the mere mention of your name is enough to make my blood rise to boiling point.

2. You are selfish, immature, and evil behind that angelic mask you wear. It was a mistake to ever know you.

3. I wonder if you know how much I loved you. And perhaps love you still…?

4. I miss you so much, and I wish I could see you again, for old times' sake.

5. I really, really like you. In a strangely unromantic sort of way. Frankly, I think I'm confused about you, but I'm glad you're around.

6. You know, when I'm around you, I get the feeling that you're watching my every move just so you can talk about with someone else.

7. Dealing with you is S-T-R-E-S-S in bold, capital letters.

8. I can't for the life of me imagine what the hell you could still be doing there. Everybody hates you. I hate you.

9. You inspire me. Your powerful words leave me awestruck and dreaming.

10. I'm happy to have met you. You are like the burst of color in my otherwise monochrome world.

11. You don't really know me all that well, so how dare you judge me based on some other person's lies and half-truths?

12. For God's sake, it's NOT pronounced "hai-ya-yar-ki!" And "quite" is NOT "quiet!"

13. I'd really love to sing with you, even just once.

14. I miss picking a fight with you. Things are just plain boring now.

15. Somehow I feel proud of you. You are MUCH better now than when you first started out, and I'm glad to be one of those who urged you on.

16. I wish we could've spent more time knowing each other. If you must know, I'm one of your biggest fans.

17. You are over-reacting. I've had enough of this melodrama. Solve your own problems and stop laying them on me.

18. What happened? I always thought you'd end up together.

19. Sometimes I feel envious of how good a poet you are.

20. Will you get on with it already so I can at least have a life? 

elegy

Monday, November 12th, 2007

i found you on friendster. your smiling face lighted up the screen, and your warm eyes looked at me.

it's been a year since you left all so suddenly.

i'm sorry i didn't get to see you off. to say goodbye. i'm sorry i wasn't there to be your friend one last time.

i'm sorry it took a year for me to finally grieve, to feel sadness at your absence. perhaps it is because finding your friendster profile came so soon after another recent loss, while death's scent still lingers.

memories of you are washing over me now, as fresh as if they just happened yesterday. the way we'd talk about the books we've read, and the peculiarities of faith and religion. the way you made me promise that i'd be at your birthday, or else you won't show up at mine. the way you insisted that i join our block section outing, and when i said i had no money, you paid for my share just so i could go.

i once said i would do anything for you.

so i'm sorry i wasn't there to say my last goodbyes. i guess i wasn't true to my word in that sense. but then, i'm not sure i could have handled it, seeing you without life, without your smile and your warm eyes. it didn't seem fair that death should claim you then, so young and so vibrantly alive.

but you're gone, and a year has passed. all i have of you now are memories, and they will have to suffice.

goodbye, friend. may you rejoice with the angels in the light of God's eternal joy, in the place that awaits us all.

warning

Saturday, November 3rd, 2007

It’s happening all over again. I can so see it coming.

Don’t. Don’t do it.

Don’t jump. I can see you teetering on the edge, one foot already out, as if testing the air. I feel that my words of caution will simply vanish into the wind, seeing the way you look now.

Free-falling is fun and exciting. It can even be inspiring. It’s the landing that’s tricky. So if I cannot stop you now, I can only say this: Before you jump, make sure you’ve taken care of your landing.

Because if you overshoot it, if you fail to cushion your heart, you’ll break it into tiny little pieces again, and it’s fragile enough as it is. Remember how long it took you to pick up the pieces and superglue them back together? And you’ll know it’s all your fault, because you knew how things stood from the very start.