Day burns down to night
Burns the edge of my soul
In the night I break into sparks of suns
And become fires end the dust of bones
Night knifes my breaths
Swallows whole my tongue
Turn back. Reverse. Return
In the night I see the real concealed
In the days bright lie
Eyes stitched shut
White teeth smile
Sleep walks and talks
And feet mark time
To the drumless beat.

--nick powell, the invisible


the 'prince' has come...

7.7.09

resting place

IT IS WHEN I SEE YOU that I can freely breathe, inhaling gusts of wind that replenishes whatever part of me that decays. But it is when you’re away from my sight that the same wind is sucked away from my struggling lungs. Just like tonight, and what it will be like tomorrow, and the night after this. I have to gasp because I want to know how this ordeal will end. I know when the end comes; you’ll not be here with me holding my hand. I can’t fully fathom the thought but it’s a truth that I’m trying to learn and to accept. I want to know the greater purpose for this loss; the grand plan behind your permanent absence, from me and from this world.

What measure of time will it take to escape the agony brought by grief and sadness? Will absolute healing come hand-in-hand with acceptance? These questions reels in my head in every moment I succumb into that pure solitude, looking deep into the sharp eyes of melancholy, trying not to flinch against the pain nor blink in the overwhelming darkness in front of me. Stifling a moan and faking a smile are some of the skills that I have yet to master. But what’s the point of doing so? I can be calm as the deepest ocean on the outside, but my insides is harboring a gathering storm, so destructive that I am surprised that my heart can still have the strength to beat, expelling blood through veins. And because I thought it had already shut down, the same moment yours had stopped, never to beat again.

I’m here, standing once again on the ground of your final resting place—that will become mine too when my life finally ends one day. I can’t wait for that day to come, not because I want to die, but the thought of embracing death is very seductive thinking it’s the only way to linger in your presence once more. I know you’d want me to walk the face of this earth for as long as I can, and to find my purpose besides the purpose of loving you for the rest of my life. For this, I’ll continue to walk for you, and breathe for you, and live—looking upon those memories; vivid images that inspires and crushes me at the same time.

The drizzle softened the grassy earth beneath me, falling and gliding like stardust in the yielding evening air. I am holding a bouquet of white calla lilies you loved so much, scalding my hand in a desperate hoping that it is your hand in mine instead. My eyes burn in my losing fight against the inevitable stream of tears. I called out your name in the wind, breathing it in; breathing what was left of your existence lost in the even flow of soft moist air. My eyes gaze upon the blurring lights of the stars and to the wet granite carved with your beautiful name. I whispered the name as my voice trembled, broken and stained with longing and powerlessness. The resonance of the words felt painful on my throat and tasted bitter on my tongue. My body shook and my knees buckled, landing on the moist ground. I let the tears fall—crystal droplets silently hidden in the darkness, drunk by the ground that covered your bones, and obscured by towering tombstones of the dead. You are now one of them, hence, these death-scented lilies. I will receive this kind of flowers someday when I become the ash that will hover above you-- my true resting place.

I will be forever thankful for the love that had awakened my heart but unfortunately, had stopped yours.






25.6.09

in dark and in light

WOULD A LOVE SURVIVE IN HIDING? Like everything else that has life and that breathes, will it suffocate in the torment of rules and ill fate?

They say love can see in the dark, but for how long? Our feet stand in the same ominous place now and I am grieving. For when love has finally found us, it is when we decided to take flight, away from the eyes of those who would take you away for me.

And for this I have to stay away. And you can’t be too close. And it pains me. Even God knows how I crave for your presence—so intoxicating to my soul that I would lock you in an embrace and not let go, if I could. I’d rather chew on these fleeting moments rather than walk alone in this dark path. My love is strong, but I am afraid my heart would crumble to pieces on the ground without knowing that you’ll be with me till the end.

The day dissolves into night, so fast that frustration is eating me up from inside because I am once again reminded of how powerless we are against the arms of time that strangles us. When this stolen moment ends and when we finally walk away from the shelter of our sanctuary built in stealth and endless longing, I will once again miss you, from the moment I turn my back till I take the last step to see you again. It’s strange because even at this moment with your back against me, my arms around you and my hands intertwined with yours, I still miss you terribly. I believe that the only times I forget to miss you is when I’m sporadically thrown into a stupor where my daydreams plunge me to a place where you do not exist, leaving me standing alone before a dead end. My nightmares are the only entities that kept you away from me, but they are still unable to purge you from my thoughts. You are everywhere, even in dreams.

When you love in the dark, nothing will seem to be enough. You can’t kiss enough. You can’t hug enough. You can’t love enough. You can’t be happy enough. Everything seems to lack because in the back of your mind, something is screaming that loving is an act that you should be proud of, and to show the world how blessed you are for being a keeper of the heart of the most amazing person; the one soul out of the billion that beats in time with yours. You shouldn’t need to steal a glimpse behind your back before you kiss or hold someone’s hand. One should love freely like breathing air in and out of your lungs, without consent, without restrictions—free. But this world will always choose to tell us who to love and what things we should be afraid of. And for this, I am sad. I have yet to love freely and fearlessly.

I am scared and torn, thinking the darkness might find away to finally eat our hearts and that I might lose you if we step out into the light. For now, we had to be this way, keeping the distance, chasing time, and struggling to force our hearts closer to bridge the distance. I’m all wrong for you and I know it but I have fallen in love without taking a step. I have to stay away but I do not have that kind of heart that could bear that thought anymore. All I want is to be here with you, and to love you, one way or another, both in darkness and in light.






. . .

For Richard, RN. I do hope I had given your love story justice with this. I wish you well and the girl who captured your heart...

11.6.09

the fallen star

WHEN MY EYES OPENED, I couldn’t see anything but stars—jewels craftily scattered on the dark canvas of the evening sky. To the common eye, they would appear to have arranged themselves in random, but to the faithful it is the ultimate form of artistry—perfect and divine. The more I gazed upon them, hanging on that black ceiling above me, the more it became hard to fathom the fact that they are actually lifetimes away, barely sitting at the edge of the universe. When I was a kid, I actually thought I could reach them by hand—a belief that was almost taken away from me by time. God had indeed stretched out the heavens.

For a moment, I forgot where I was. I could hear myself silently breathing the cool air that teased the locks of my hair. Every blade of grass underneath me sent tickles of sensation on my skin. Lying on that open field made me wonder how I must have looked like from above. I felt insignificant compared to the beauty that surrounded me. I felt so small. But everything was designed flawlessly. I have a theory that God made us small for us to appreciate and acknowledge the things bigger ourselves especially those beyond our fallible minds alone could never understand.

I then heard the crisp sound of breaking grass beside me. I suddenly remembered that I was not alone. We lazed under the majesty of the night dissimilated against the green grass and shadows of trees.

“You fell asleep.” She teased.

“Did I?” I said trying to sound ignorant.

“Yes, you did. Actually I was torn between laughing and waking you up when the snoring began.” She laughed.

“I don’t snore!” And I reached out to ruffle her hair. It is one those rare moments when happiness overflows that you just have to laugh it out.

A sporadic silence rang out, and we sighed at the same time, chuckled, sighed again, and then silence once more. The next moment settled and then lingered for more than a moment.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”
She said. There was always something in her voice that was just anesthetizing to the soul. I always felt like I had to stay close or else I would forget how to breathe.

“I snore. Oh wait. You already know that.” I teased back.

“I’m trying to be serious.” And I could tell she was by the way her eyes rolled on their sockets and the crinkle on her nose.

I sat up and wore my shoes off. The grass felt good against the soles of my tired feet. I surprised myself when I inched closer and lied down beside her. I took her hand in mine. And with heads conjoined, we pointed to the spectacle above us.

“That star, the blue one—that’s Rigel. That’s one of the youngest stars. And that one diagonally opposite it, the red one—it’s Betelgeuse, and unlike Rigel, it’s dying. These three stars, here, that’s the three kings. And if you connect them to this, this, and this, it will form the Hunter constellation, most commonly known as Orion.” I explained, my hand slightly trembling on hers. We were so close that my heart soared and pounded against my chest. But I knew I had to inch away and let go of her hand. And I did. I can point to a billion stars forever with her, I thought.

“Woah. You really paid attention to your Astronomy class, didn’t you? Impressive.” She mused, a shy smile etched on her ever beautiful face.

“When I was kid I used to lie on our rooftop at night and find stars and constellations I’ve read from books. Geeky perhaps, but yes. I wanted to be an astronomer. Back then I actually thought stars were within my reach.”
My eyes once again grazed the heavens. “But time changes things, including dreams. And because in truth, we change too.”

“So what have become of that dream?” She asked, her eyes squinting towards the skies, as if reading illegible letters she alone could see.

“Do you believe in fate? I have so many dreams. And I have come to understand that I can’t fulfill them all. But sometimes, destiny would just knock on your door and give you a gift; the one you once dreamed of having and you thought was lost forever.” I looked in her eyes ever wanting to get lost in the heaven behind them.

“Yes. I think I do.” She raised her hand, moving a finger in the air as if writing a name. “Life is a big box of surprises.”

Quiescence crawled away with time, and clouds eventually covered the twinkling celestial bodies that adorned the black sky. Thunder and lightning flaunted their power against the thick downpour of rain. Strangely, we still chose stay there, as the earth beneath the bed of grass where we laid turned into mud, silently enjoying the rain on our faces and basking in the moment like little rascals. She suddenly stood up, her eyes flinching to the water spattering on her face.

“Let’s dance.” She bellowed against the noise, beaming.

I stood up facing her, bowed in courtesy and offered a hand, never looking away from her gaze. And the moment her hand landed on mine, we began waltzing under the rain, endlessly laughing at our own folly. We knew it didn’t make sense, but we didn’t care. We twisted and turned, disturbing the puddles of mud that stained our feet and clothes. It was the first time in ages that I enjoyed the rain. I felt like I had gone back in time to the young days when I used to live a carefree-life. I was a kid once more and old dreams just came flooding back.

I once dreamed of reaching for the stars. But the innocence of my youth failed me to understand that you should not reach for them, not that it’s impossible, but because sometimes, when destiny calls, one of those billion stars will just fall from the heavens and land straight to your hand.

4.6.09

pillow talks







F
ake a smile

Swallow the moans

Seal your mouth with memories

And shared vows known.

Dance if you can

But dry first the floor

Slippery with tears—

Knocks of goodbye on your door.

Change the sheets

Wash away my smell

But keep me as your pillow

Where your head goes I will follow.

Turn your gaze up

And catch a falling star

Close the hand, open the heart

Wish for it to never smart.

Whisper my name

Wish for time’s demise

In its ashes I’ll come back

To you where bliss does not lack.

Catch your breath

And bury deep your roots

Stand firm on the ground

Yet as free as the wind—

A speeding sound.

Drink down a purple pill

To stay asleep if you must

Through a song take flight

Towards me and away from the night.

Let me dwell in your dreams

Soft and sweet—a happy taste

Candy clouds on sticks we’ll chew

Then I will be just a breath away

Far but closer to you.

30.5.09

love potions, eargasms, freud, and suddenly i miss everyone

SUMMER IS COMING TO AN END and everyone is bracing themselves for the rainy days ahead. I love the rainy days primarily because of the promise of a cooler weather. The summer heat was almost unbearable these past days. The other day, when the atmospheric temperature soared a couple of degrees over, I thought I was going to have a heat stroke. My brain was pounding inside my skull. End of summer also means the start of classes. I realized how much I miss school, not the toxic days nor waking up early in the morning, but my friends. After college, it’s very hard to find time to hang out with them given that we’re now busy finally living our individual lives.

This is the group I spent most of my college days with. We were stuck with each other during our affiliations in different hospitals and everything academic-related.

[Retreat 2008]

I was the leader of the pack and handling such wacky group imposed a great challenge to me. It was always full of never-ending drama. But I have learned loads from them. I had the opportunity to hone my leadership skills and to see my capabilities for myself.

[Community Outreach 2008]

As the college years rolled over, we ended up being great friends. They were the ones who really helped me picked up the pieces when I had my first heartbreak. Enough said. :P

[Community Outreach 2008]

I just miss them. By the way, to Richard and other nurse aspirants who would take the National Licensure Examinations this June, I wish you well.

I’m so hooked downloading torrent audio files! The past two weeks, my flash drive was teeming with soundtracks and albums. I now have the full discographies of Gavin Degraw, James Morrison, James Blunt, John Mayer and The Frey. I’m really fascinated by musical scores. So I also downloaded soundtracks from movies August Rush, The Lady in the Water, Atonement, and Angels and Demons. I had to transfer my files to our PC but the hard drive is literally running out of available disk space. I guess I had to transfer some files into data disks. It’s really nice to do a sound tripping over coffee, late in the afternoon or past midnight. I hope it rains tonight.

Have you read my previous post, lost and found? The story of a guy who vandalized a bus and met a girl who was soaking wet and was missing a shoe? Well I asked Angelo, a doctor: If he were to psychoanalyze me, what would that post say about me? And this was his reply:

hahahaha, dude, don't get me started! Psychoanalysis will probably lead to the revelation of some repressed sexual tension as it usually does.... I mean c'mon you find a wet girl with a missing shoe?... let's break it down:

"wet girl" - nuff said...

"a shoe" - may be construed as a sheath of some form meant to ensheath another object vis-à-vis a foot. In Latin, the root word for sheath is "VAGIN", hence the word "vagina" = a sheath for a phallus. A cellphone may be construed as phallic... not only did she ring your cell, you proceeded to give her the white handkerchief from your cell....

dude, you need to find the shoe!

Sorry if that w
as too Freudian for you hehehe....

I was laughing out loud when I read it. It was very interesting, wasn’t it? :P It makes me wonder what my other posts would mean. He probably got it right. I really need to get laid find the missing shoe. Hahaha!

It’s now less than two months until The Half-Blood Prince. Time runs really fast! I saw this clip from the upcoming movie.



This first aired in The Ellen Degeneres Show. Luckily, I found an extended version in YouTube. Ron was hilarious in here! Hehe! Peace out! :P







26.5.09

lost and found

IMAGINE ME INSIDE A BUS. Imagine me leaning forward, vandalizing the back of the seat in front of me with a marker pen. I was on my way home that day. I thought the air-conditioning could save me from the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. It couldn’t. The bus was almost full. I felt suffocated by the disgusting smell of undeodorized underarms and vomit that churned inside the airtight environment. I wanted to get off but I was too lazy to move, pinned to that bug-infested seat. I just wanted to go home and enjoy a sanctuary only my room could give. But a two-hour-long journey still loomed ahead.

I continued to write onto the bare steel in front of me, scribbling words I copied from the rusting floor and murky glass windows that blurred the speeding images outside. I was struggling to keep my hand steady, eager to make every letter legible despite the sudden stops and bumps along the way. It was a rough ride. The words finally converged into a nine-line poetry, which ended with a sign and an eleven-digit number. I was hoping that someone would care to read it, unveil the message beneath the lines, and find me. I was going home and yet I felt lost, ever wondering if I took the right bus.

I spent the rest of the ride looking outside occasionally lip-synching conversations between people. I watched as the yellowish tone of the world succumbed under the grey shade of the sky, once blue and now swallowed whole by wrathful dark clouds. Soon, bullets of water streaked down, firing at will against everything, pounding on the bus’ roof and windows. My head ached in the swift drop of temperature. It didn’t take long before the flood water rose and for the children of the streets to play in celebration. I envied them, those little vagabonds. I was dry and warm and yet I couldn’t smile remembering how I used to enjoy the rain once upon a time.

The traffic ominously twisted. The sounds of angry horns became a chatter, pointless amidst the stagnant traffic flow. The two-hour journey stretched to three, to four and then five. I was stranded, trapped in a gas chamber thinking that fates were mocking me once again. And then, the hissing sound of an opening bus door broke the monotony of the moment. Every one looked up. Someone got on board. I watched as the new passenger walked gracefully along the aisle. I was torn into thinking which was more curious about her: the fact that she’s dripping wet or that she was missing a shoe. She traversed the length of the aisle leaving wet footprints and blots on the cold steel floor, bowed head moving left and right searching for a seat. And she found one—the one next to me.

I became so aware of her presence and the minute space between us. It made me feel uncomfortable and yet there was this urge to have a glimpse of her face concealed under her long black hair. She felt terribly cold. I could sense her trembling in her seat. If I could at least make her feel warm. But I couldn’t do anything. The ugly feeling of powerlessness compelled me to just sigh—a subtle way to scream out bottled frustration that burdened my chest. I looked once again to the cold, wet, world behind the glass, desperately trying to swim away towards a reverie I so longed for, separated from me by a curtain of an unrelenting summer rain.

And then between a heartbeat and a groan, my cellular silently rang. Someone had sent me a message. I reached for it in my pocket, wrapped in a white handkerchief. After my eyes grazed the three lines of the message, it struck me. Fate indeed mocked me the day.


"You should vandalize buses more often, sir.
I think I found you.
And I hope you can find me too."


I looked incredulously at the person next to me, a cellular held in her trembling hand. I offered my hand where the piece of cloth from my pocket lies.

“Thank you.” She slowly reached for it in my hand. She looked up and bestowed me a shy smile. It was then that I saw her beautiful face, embellished with water droplets glinting like misplaced diamonds.

“No, miss. Thank you.” For the first time in ages I smiled. It’s indeed easy to find someone, especially when the person you’re looking for is sitting just a couple of inches from you.

“I think I found you too.”










23.5.09

for my darling







Shed those tears on the ground or

Eat the same dust from your mouth

Sing me a sad song—

The lyrics on your ashes I spoke.


Tremble for me, my darling

Like I am your greatest fear

In your bed, a mortal foe

Stay awake or sleep forevermore.


A bouquet of flowers I give to you

Scarlet like a dying sun, as dead as your love

Fall hard on the earth where I stood

Like a rootless tree barren of fruits.


Run for me in haste for your life

Drink sweat if you thirst

From the bottle filled with yourself—

A lost taste lasting on my tongue.


Write me a thousand letters

That I promise to never read

Let an unkindness send them not a murder

For good fortune to me they will bring.


Then kill yourself as if you’re alive

But stab my heart first as if I have not died

Dig our holes, with your hands as spades

Bury me with you, my darling

And this anger as lights from our eyes fade.



20.5.09

angels, demons, and pizza

[WARNING: SPOILER AHEAD]

AT LAST, I was able to watch Angels and Demons on the big screen—twice in one sitting. Hales was not with me though. It’s been awhile since the last time I enjoyed a blockbuster in a movie house alone. She already watched it and blatantly gave a warning, telling me not to waste time watching it (which I think could be categorized as a mild form of a spoiler). But how could I not? I’ve anticipated for it for so long. I’ll not get disappointed till I see it for myself.

After more than four hours on my favorite seat along the aisle, occasionally taking a bite of a regular asado siopao (the only decent snack I could afford due to my dire financial status) without taking my eyes off the screen, I can say that it was a good watch, at
least way better than its predecessor—The Da Vinci Code. It even toppled Star Trek in the box-office. While watching, I was trying desperately to detach the book purist in me so as to keep myself from whining about:

1. Leonardo Vetra becoming the Silvano guy.

2. Maximillian Kohler being erased from the script.
3. Trashing the legend of the Illuminati Diamond.


Aside from these, I consider the changes forgivable and woven in a way that even non-readers could connect to. I like how they twisted the story by sparing Cardinal Baggia, one of the preferiti. It gave an element of surprise to the readers and non-readers alike.


I think the movie did well on the technical aspect. I love the visual effects and cinematography. The St. Peter’s Square shots were amazing especially when the antimatter finally annihilated at the climax of the film. The musical scoring was superb. It’s obvious that they adapted it from the Da Vinci Code soundtrack but it still set the mystical and ominous tone of film. The movie w
as fast paced and exhilarating—the way it should be. The cast did their part very well. Ewan McGreggor who played the role of the Camerlengo was superb. The woman who played Vittoria was gorgeous even though her performance lacked a little personality. Tom Hanks played it cool this time adding the right amount of humor to the chaotic plot.

When the movie ended, I observed the crowd’s reactions. They don’t look satisfied. It made me wonder if I liked the movie just because of my insatiable fanaticism for the book. But anyway, I went home with a smile thinking I didn’t waste a hundred pesos. I concluded the night watching a Korean comedy flick, 100 days with Mr. Arrogant, while binging on tons of pizza left-overs from the fridge. It was a fun-fun-fun day!
Peace out! :D