Saturday, January 12, 2008

Kung nasa iyo na ang lahat... anong meron ka?


When a man has everything, what is everything worth? Nothing. Everything loses meaning when one can't afford to dream.

Like wanderers that chart all frontiers conquered, where else can one go if all areas have already been mapped?

This leaves us with the choice to remain satisfied with what we have --- at least for now. Think of your current situation as just a passing phase.

Dream --- and reach for what you want.

The wait, the delay in gratification, will make the rewards sweeter. And victory will mean more than a dusty trophy on your living room shelf.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Magkano bang pag-ibig mo? Pag-iipunan ko.

The Best Things in Life ay libre...

Wise men say that the best thing in life is to give love... and receive it. They weren't lying when they said that happiness is free. Money can't buy you love... as the old song goes...

The best things in life are free...

I think contrary to common assumptions, people are more averse to receiving love than giving it. And similar to all great equations, once incomplete and unresolved, love (like everything else) fails. Most of us unconsciously feel that we don't deserve love. We think that if we give in and let it sink in, we'll become too mushy... too soft... too VULNERABLE.

But isn't love supposed to fortify? Isn't it there to strengthen our bonds?

Love connects us all.

Between you and me, I don't get why people push away the people who love them. (Deep down, our brains are somehow fooling us that we are too corrupted to deserve love... or we are too scared that the other person loves us too much, and we can't give the same amount of love in return. Don't you think this wrong? Love is there to be given. And, as the song says, it's free.) We rely too much on sight, I believe. We always trust what we see. But sight is the easiest to fool of all the senses. Why can't people trust what they feel?

Have they been burned before? Have they been hurt so bad that they don't want to love again? Or feel loved?

These are the types who alienate themselves from society... and trust is a valuable commodity. If we want others to trust us, we must learn how to trust them too. Even if we're unsure, even if we're in the dark... sometime, somewhere, there'd be hands waiting to catch us before we fall.

It's not always guaranteed... this life doesn't come with a warranty.

But we live once. We gamble.

And maybe, if we try hard enough... if we wait long enough... and we invest enough time, effort, blood, and tears... we could hit the jackpot.

Open your eyes. Maybe we should do the opposite. Let's close them. And hope against hope that the next time we fall... there'd be hands waiting to catch us.

I still believe that the best things in life are free.

You can’t buy love.

If you want to buy love, buy a puppy.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

May SEB ka na naman?

FYI. This is for the sake of argument.

You might say that I just contradicted myself. How can you be honorable by sleeping around? How can there be honor in an act of self-deprecation?

Well, as I said, I didn't want to cheat. I never want to cheat. I never cheated any of my boyfriends before (at least they never caught me, hahaha.) But seriously, I’ve never done that. I will never do that. And I have no plans of doing it for the next 45 minutes...

BUT.

And that's a big BUT right there, pardon the pun. Haha. I'm single now. And let's not kid ourselves. A lot of people are looking just to get laid. And note that the percentage of bi-males doing this is increasing with time.

I am a turd. Hahaha! I know.

The thing is... not all bi-males are joining this bandwagon I’m discussing. And the difference between an honorable dude fucking around and a jerk fucking around is knowing your limitations. Know your boundaries. Know your role.

Hear me, dre? You smell what I’m cooking?

Some guys are willing to play. Sniff them out. And like an HONORABLE fisher, throw back the fish you can't really eat.

Learn it.

Absorb it.

Stick it up your cross-minded ass.

Oh, and I don’t do one night stands.... two nights maybe... hahaha... kidding...

Interested? PM me, serious takers only (God I always see that in guys profiles... hahaha). I am so dead.

LOL.

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

So, naninigarilyo ka na naman?


“So, naninigarilyo ka na naman?”

Gusto ko ang opening line niya. Napaka-ordinaryo pero dahil nasa akin ang buong atensyon niya ng araw na iyon, masaya ako. Medyo maaskad ang pagkakabitiw niya ng tanong pero dahil parang droga ang tama niya sa akin, natural lang na hindi ako maasar.

So, nginitian ko siya sabay sabi ng ganito: “Wala to pauso lang ako.”

“Anong pauso? Masama yan.”

“Di naman. May iniisip lang kasi ako, kaya naisip kong manigarilyo.”

“Bakit di ka ba makapag-isip ng walang nakasuksok dyan sa bibig mo?”

“Nakakaisip naman kaya lang ano kasi mas nakakapag-isip ako ng mabuti pag me ganito eh.”

“So, ano, naka-depende ka na lang dyan habang buhay?”

Tila bad mood sya nung araw na yun. Actually bad mood din ako eh, kaya lang ayoko siyang sabayan. Mahirap sabayan ang galit nya, malamang sa hindi ako ang talo.

“Sabi ko nga, di na ko magsisigarilyo uli eh. Eto nga’t papatayin ko na o!”

So there goes my cig.

My last one.

Down the wet, cold earth.

It goes.

Like a rotten shit.

Dead.

“Ahm, nabasa mo na ba yung Love in the Time of Cholera ni Gabriel Garcia Marquez?” Bigla ay hirit ko. Gusto ko lang ibahin ang usapan. Although kating-kati na akong pumunta sa pinaka-malapit na tindahan para bumili ng stick.

“Ah yun? Oo naman di ba pinagduldulan mo pa nga sakin yun dati? Bakit mo naitanong?”

“Wala lang, naalala ko lang yung bidang lalake dun, si Florentino Ariza, alala mo?”

“Yup, yup. O bakit mo siya naalala?”

“Ano kasi, feeling ko kasi ako sya.”

Mula sa kawalan, biglang napatingin sya sa ‘kin. Seryoso yung mukha. Dead-serious. To the max. Ilang minuto lang biglang nagbago na yung reaksyon ng mukha niya tapos bumunghalit siya ng tawa. Yung klase ng tawa na pang-asar, yung nakakaloko.

Pero natutuwa ako pagganito ang itsura niya. Lumalabas ang pamatay niyang ngiti. Anak ng teteng. Kung pwede ko lang siyang bulungan ng ganito: Mahal kita, sobra, lampas langit, lampas impyerno. Gagawin ko, kung pwede. Kahit magmukha akong naghahabol na aso. Pero hindi pwede.

Sa totoo lang, hindi siya guwapo. Wala siyang dating kahit saang angulo ng mukha mo tingnan. Mapuputing ngipin lang ang salvation niya. Ordinaryo lang ang mukha niya, yung tipong lalampasan mo lang ng tingin sa karamihan kasi nga wala naman siyang katangian na magpapabalik sa iyo ng tingin. Sa katunayan, sa sobrang ordinaryo ng mukha niya, iisipin mong pangit siya o dahil walang dating, boring at walang sense kausap.

Pero kasi, iba kse sya. Ordinaryo man siya sa itsura, hindi ordinaryo ang isip niya. Tiklop ako, supalpal, barado, madalas mukhang tanga. Siguro ganoon ako, gusto ko yung pinagmumukha akong tanga para malaman ko na wala naman talaga akong binatbat. Na sagana lang ako sa tula at walang kwentang kuwento. Siya yung tagapag-paalala ko na wala akong karapatang magmalaki sa mundo kasi may mga taong katulad niya.

Sabi ng konsensiya ko: ”You’re just a little, dark dot... nothing more, nothing less.”
“Nyak. I-ikaw? Feeling mo si Florentino Ariza ka?” Tapos tumawa uli siya ng malakas.

Naisip ko, s##t, nakakatawa ba talaga yung sinabi ko? Seryoso naman ako. Akala ko pa naman intellectually stimulating yung binuksan kong topic.

“In what ways were you two alike? Baket impassioned nympho ka rin ba? At sino naman ang iyong Fermina Daza? Tapos tumawa uli siya.

Kung ibang tao lang siguro ang kaharap ko, malamang naupakan ko na sa mukha. Seryosong seryoso ka sa pakikipag-usap, tapos bibirahan ka ng tawa. Dyahe yun. Badtrip.

“Naisip ko lang na parang ako si Florentino in the sense na pareho kaming engot pagdating sa pag-ibig. We both take pleasure in the pain of unrequited love. Parang ganun.”

“Namputcha naman yang mga hirit mo. Yuck. Kelan ka pa nahilig sa love and all those mushy bullshit. Akala ko pa naman astig ka. Yuck ka!”

Bigla akong natameme. May mga lalake din palang OA mag-react. Tapos sinisi ko ang sarili ko kung bakit nabanggit ko pa sa kanya yung lintek na librong yun. Bigla akong nahiya. Pero nag-try akong bumawi. Kahit supalpal na, lalaban pa din ako.

“Ano kasi, ala lang, naisip ko lang kasi. Siguro nga malayo kami ni Florentino sa ilang aspeto pero kase naisip ko, possible naman yun di ba? Putek, di bale na nga lang kalimutan mo na lang na nabanggit ko yun.”

Siyempre pakunsensya epek ako. Tapos, nahalata niya siguro na medyo nag-iba yung panlasa ko. Gusto ko na nung mag-walk out kaya lang di ko magawa. Nahiya ako, gusto ko pa naman sanang magpa-impress.

“Sus. Kaw naman, tampo agad. Alam mo kasi, ano eh, gago kase ang dating sa ‘kin ni Florentino dun sa book. Tragis, sino bang sira-ulo ang maghihintay ng 55 years para lang maangkin ang taong minamahal niya? I mean, alam mo yun, tapos kung kani-kaninong babae siya naki-pagsex tapos igigiit niya na all through those long years, he remained pure and virgin for Fermina. That’s bullshit. Wala, sira ulo lang ang mga taong gumawa nun. I mean, siguro magkakagusto ako sa isang babae, pero hindi ako ganoon ka-martir na mag-iintay ng kalahating century para sa babae.”

Natameme uli ako. Hindi ako sang-ayon sa sinabi niya. Nagmamarakulyo ang isip ko sa mga binitawan niya. Gusto kong sabihin na may ganung klase ng pag-ibig. Na merong mga tao na willing mag-hintay ng ilang taon para lang maibalik sa kanila yung pag-ibig na matagal nilang itinanim. Gusto kong sabihin sa kanya na pwedeng mangyari yun, na kaya ko nasabing nakaka-relate ako kay Florentino dahil pakiramdam ko, duon ako patungo ngayon. Gusto kong i-explain sa kanya na totoo si Florentino Ariza, na pwede siyang mag-exist. Pero siyempre natameme na naman ako. Supalpal. Sapol na sapol.

“Onga, kabaliwan siguro yung pinagsasabi ko. Siguro nga sira ulo si Florentino Ariza. Sige, kalimutan mo na yung sinabi ko. Malayong maging ako si Florentino Ariza.”

“So ano, tara na, pasok na tayo sa loob?”

“Ahm, dito muna ko. Magpapahangin lang.”

“Sure ka? O sige. Basta wag ka na lang magsisigarilyo ha?”

“Sige. Pramis.”

Para makasiguro, kinuha nya yung lighter ko. Tapos nakangiti siyang pumasok sa loob. Ako, naiwan sa labas, nag-iisip pa rin. Tumingala ako sa langit pero wala akong langit na nakita... puno lang ng saging. Tapos kinapa ko ang bulsa ko. Meron pang naiwang isang stick.

I smiled.

A foolish one.

Because somehow I knew I’ve fooled him.

But I’m dead.

Foolish are fooled not once.

Ginala ko ang tingin ko tapos, nakisindi ako ng siga.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Saan na nakakabili ng closure?


I have come to realize that everyone has been unfortunate enough to have had their hearts tortured at least once... and as for the ones who haven't... well I don't like them. They're so strange... and happy... I don't like those people.

They couldn't begin to understand what heartache feels like... and I don't just mean a lover's pain.

A heart can be wrung by one's own family and friends. A pet's death could do the same... But those people who have never experienced any pain are so strange. They make me unbelievably uncomfortable.

They pity me.

Why? I can't make use of their pity.

With the exception of those few strange people, all the others have their own deeply buried bruises and gashes... As time passes... The hurt heals enough to be discussed sans emotion, but if the tormentor returns, they needn't even so much as breathe to rip open the old wounds...

A good song can gently prod at the deepest stashed hurt, generate misty eyes and a few misplaced tears... An even better song will create the same effect without the realization of why it hurts... But nothing will have the same effect as the return of the Tormentor.

The death of a loved one creates the deepest hurt, with scattered scratches inside the ragged cuts, within the torn gashes, which cover the entire surface of twisted, mutilated mass that was once labeled as a heart. Of course, this... thing... may never heal... I wouldn't know because I fortunately have been spared from that form of attack to the heart...

But people do move on....

Their hearts are resilient, and they reconstruct a new one...

Some are reconstructed weakly... These people don't last very long. Others are reconstructed with the extra strength to withstand a second blow... These find it difficult to love again. Still, others will use the help of another heart, or more, to become reconstructed just as before.

I have given my heart in such a way to someone in need, with no regrets, because he is now healing, and my heart is still the same as it was before... I have had a heartache. I suppose that in a disgustingly twisted way, I am greatful for having had the experience, because I would rather be as I am now, than be among the strangely ecstatic...

Somehow, though, I do believe that I could have made do solely with the hurt that my family brings. Most of us have family issues which make us "normal" in my definition...Maybe we all just need an excuse to harbor poison within our hearts...

Our Tormentors are none other than ourselves, and we need something external on which to place the blame...

Anyway, there are certain people that I would like to share my hurt with... But I find no reason to do so. I sit quietly, patiently, waiting for anyone to reveal themselves to me so that I may show them the gaping hole that was seared so deeply into my heart, still dripping sticky flesh from a lack of closure...

Oh how cruel one's Tormentor can be...

And yet I thank him.

I suppose that I do thank him for giving me such awesome material to work with, for enlightening me to a whole new subject of art, and therefore improving me as a whole... But everything about it is twisted.

I am, in effect, thanking him for ruining me as I once knew myself... I hold such contempt towards him for doing so.

Possibly one of my largest fears is the possibility of his return...

But this is all aside from the point.

Monday, January 7, 2008

Faggot


Fags.

Do you know where the word comes from?

The bundles of sticks that homosexuals were forced to carry. Their own fags in fact, as they marched to be burned for something they couldn’t help.

You know who else they burned? Witches. And didn’t we prove that one wrong too? Did those innocent people deserve to die?

No.

And even though no one’s being burned anymore, they’re being hated. They’re being discriminated against. They’re being bashed. They’re being forced into hiding.We talk about how much society has advanced and evolved in recent years and decades, but how far have we really come? Still forcing people to hide who they are and renounce themselves, punishing them for what they can’t help.

It’s the silent genocide. (Day of silence anyone?) They’re not being killed, no. But they’re being killed inside. They’re killing themselves.

Why?

Some are taught that what they are is wrong. They hate themselves that much. Others because everyone around them gives them odd looks or insults them, ignores them, and bashes them.

‘You are so GAY!’

Well, what if I am? What’s wrong with that? Can’t I be myself anymore? My parents, my teachers, all those cheesy books on self-esteem, they all told me to be myself. So I’m doing exactly that. And now you want me to be something else?

I’m confused. Screw you.

But it’s not that easy just to ignore the fire from all sides. Because above it all, more than wanting to be accepted, more than wanting to be open and proud, you want to be accepted. Accepted by your peers, your friends, your family.

You know it’s true. ‘Of course we know how to dress. We’ve been in the closet for centuries.’ Funny, harmless, but if you look deeper, as with most things, it’s not as innocent as it seems. Yes, exactly that. ‘Been in the closet for centuries.’

And aren’t we still? You tell me.

You tell me.

Because I don’t think I can deal with all this anymore.

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Twisted Tongue


(1) If you understand, say "understand". If you don't understand, say "don't understand". But if you understand and say "don't understand", how do I understand that you understand? Understand!

(2) I wish to wish the wish you wish to wish, but if you wish the wish the witch whishes, I won't wish the wish you wish to wish.

(3) Sounding by sound is a sound method of sounding sounds.

(4) A sailor went to sea to see what he could see. And all he could see was sea, sea, sea.

(5) If two witches were watching two watches, which witch would watch which watch?

(6) I thought a thought. But the thought I thought wasn't the thought. If the thought I thought had been the thought I thought, I wouldn't have thought so much.

(7) Once a fellow met a fellow in a field of beans. Said a fellow to a fellow, "If a fellow asks a fellow, can a fellow tell a fellow what a fellow means?"

(8) Mr Inside went over to see Mr Outside. Mr Inside stood outside and called to Mr Outside inside. Mr Outside answered Mr Inside from inside and told Mr Inside to come inside. Mr Inside said "No", and told Mr Outside to come outside. Mr Outside and Mr Inside argued from inside and outside about going outside or coming inside. Finally, Mr Outside coaxed Mr Inside to come inside, then both Mr Outside and Mr Inside went outside to the riverside.

(9) She sells sea shells on the sea shore. But the sea shells that she sells, on the sea shore are not the real ones.

(10) The owner of the inside inn was inside his inside inn with his inside outside his inside inn.

(11) If one doctor doctors another doctor does the doctor who doctors the doctor doctors the doctor the way the doctor he's doctoring doctors? Or does the doctor doctors the way the doctor who doctors doctors?When a doctor falls ill another doctor doctor's the doctor. Is the doctor doctoring the doctor doctor the doctor in his own way or is the doctor doctoring the doctor doctors the doctor in the doctor's way.

(12) We surely shall see the sun shine shortly. Whether the weather be fine, or wether the weather be not, whether the weather be cold or whether the weather be hot, we'll weather the weather whatever the weather. Whether we like it or not. Watch? Whether the weather is hot. Whether the weather is cold. Whether the weather is either or not. It is whether we like it or not.

(13) Nine nice night nurses nursing nicely.

(14) A flea and a fly in a flue said the fly "oh what should we do" said the flea. "Let us fly" said the fly. "Let us flee". So the flew though a flaw in the flue.

(15) If you tell Tom to tell a tongue-twister his tongue will be twisted as tongue-twister twists tongues.

(16) Mr See owned a saw. And Mr Soar owned a seesaw. Now See's saw sawed Soar's seesaw before Soar saw See, which made Soar sore. Had Soar seen See's saw before See sawed Soar's seesaw? See's saw wouldn't have sawed Soar's seesaw. So See's saw sawed Soar's seesaw. But it was sad to see Soar so sore just because See's saw sawed Soar's seesaw.