A Eulogy to that Buried Feeling

To You,


Despite the current macabre turn of events that has dawned unto me, I am writing this letter to reminisce everything and to eventually put a resolution at the end. Wherever you may be, it seems that the inevitable has come to place things in a particular degree of uncertainty where only God knows when will our paths cross - again - if ever. At least in a few words, I was able to immortalize in cyberspace the few precious moments that we shared and I may consider to be part of what I am now.

We started off in the most unconventional of all meeting places - cyberspace. You were confused, tired and I am the hopeful in search for the ideal. At some point we clicked and I cannot even remember when was that. All I am certain of, it was a cool morning with some shades of sleep in me and a hint of resigned feeling in you. But yes, you took me away to another realm when words were exchanged and in a spur of a moment it was all but me and you. That sense of hope in me was suddenly awakened. And, thereafter, it was all but that hopeful and idealist in me that has surged to life. I believe on that day, my heart skipped with an uncontained hope.


Unconsciously, I should say, that at some point, I made you the center of my life. But, knowing the distance, the infrequencies and the uncertainties that is undeniable between us, we know, it is not wise. Expectations are lowered down but friendship has been shared, nurtured and kept. Across this desert we brought smiles to each other. We may not be that constant companion to each other but the thought of me and you is enough to bring forth life in our day to day living.


As months go by, each shoulder and a hand is something to count on. We have crossed those miles between us and physical presence is now an after thought. I know, there were a lot of challenges, when I felt sorry for myself for not being there when you were almost losing grip of life. I know, I am more than guilty when all I can do is to cry with you over the phone when I should weeping those tears from you. I know, at some point I myself have gone restless and worried for every hardship that you are into.


Should I say that I tried to resign myself not to feel anything more than being friends. I am weak though for not trying this. Moreso, I kept this in me and held on to it - until today.


Today, life is with you and it may still be a long way to happiness for you but now, again, life is with you. Today, I now bury whatever carcass is left in my heart. Today, I will light that candle for whatever soul we have shared in the past. Today will be another day for each of us until that one day comes.

Go, life and happiness is waiting for you and I will never turn my back on you.


From Me

Just Venting Out...

Perhaps this might be a good way to vent out my current state of feelings - uncertain, worried, scared, lost. This has been going on for days and at the closure of this working week, I feel the sudden urgency of a particular "something" that is suppose to be happening already. Strange, and it has been running in my mind like a lost rat for every waking hour and it's slowly biting my sanity. It is indeed hard to look for someone who has either no intention of showing up or no chance of showing up at all. And, at the end of the day you have been able to conjure a lot of stories that it just makes you crazy.

I simply hope that things will turn out the way that it should be in the end. Although unsure of the fate, but maybe somewhere in that other desert, he will be able to feel that in this part of the desert another heart has been skipping irregularly already due to mixed emotions. I will take these as an extra baggage that I will be carrying until God knows when.

Just venting out...

Coming Home...

Now, I take my chance,
In this upcoming life,
Where I will now dance
With a heart on a knife.

I will now say hello,
But too bad its cold,
Now an unknown fellow,
That I can't even hold.

Many years I've hoped,
For this day to come.
Every struggle I cope,
and be a hero to some.

Now in this homecoming,
Towards a life of love.
This question I'm asking,
You, do I still have?

Proper Judgment?

Each one of us has its own set of misgivings whereby we often tend to be sorry in the end. Each one of us has its own keepsake of regrets whereby we learn but in the end, we forget the lesson. And, definitely, each one of us has its own plethora of complexities whereby in the end, we end up with these misgivings and regrets.

Needless to say, every aftermath, we convince ourselves that we should have known better and we should have judged the situation better and that we could have turn up things in a much better way - and not like a rooster who lost his fight. But these are all passe. Most of the time, we end up seeking solace and comfort in the four corners of our room, convinving ourselves that everything is fine and that this is all but a no winner no losser situation. This all boils down to what we say PROPER JUDGMENT.

A proper judgment will be in no way bear similar factors, or bear similar consequences, or entail similar convictions in the end. These two words will always be spelled out with one common denominator - DIFFERENCES. Experience has taught us that life will always be full of differences inasmuch as similarities serve as the bond for every differences we have. Nevertheless, proper judgment is always being governed by a lot of factors, time, day, mood, character and evidently, we are rendered helpless by all these, not to say the least that we oftentimes find ourselves executing WRONG JUDGMENTS.

The use of proper judgment in everyday life's situation is almost inexplicable clouded with a lot of uncertainties, reservations and questions that all has to be resolved urgently, otherwise you end up either taking a wrong turn or being totally abandoned for oblivion. Proper judgment is critical, it is necessary and it is dangerous too. We all have to bear in mind that proper judgment may not be as proper as it may seem, it may just be a means to justify the ends - talk about Machiavelli, or it may be more of a practice up to the point that we end up in pure dependence to our judgments that we already closed the doors to entertain some other factors for reconsideration - talk about being too dogmatic of our own set of beliefs.

If we dig deeper into the uses of proper judgment, we can see that a lot of us would use it as a justification of their so-called "proper judgments". Take for example a person who delays doing something because in his or her own proper judgment, it is still not the right time. Proper judgment in this sense has been utilized to justify that if a task is to be done immediately, there would be repercussions - this is the most obvious implication if we look at it. Or, if we commit ourselves into something only to end up saying,

Hence, as I close this lamentation of mine, let us all be mindful of ourselves at all times.

Second Choices

Last Palm Sunday's homily was a mention on 2nd choices and I thought it might be good to reflect especially this week. As the days went by, I thought of dwelling on it in another perspective. Being uber emotional, I believe, I would like to state my rationales based on matters of the heart. And, questions are starting to appear one by one about two, double, second and yes, second choices.

Indeed, to have a second choice is just like in a cross-road. Faced with two paths, it brings in a dilemma which can either make or break us. And, at all times, deciding which one to choose is the hardest of it all. Second choices are two hard words. Second - which denotes plurality rather than singular, and choice - which has to deal with cognition. Mix these words and you are bound to a whole lot of either rejoicing or licking every wound it can entail. Come to think of it, cognition is not merely absorbing every essence of the word but digesting it,perhaps to include some gastric juices in it and come up with a bowel of substance. Although gritty but yes, cognition is all about absorption and its imminent decay after - a few seconds perhaps. And, to process two choices in a millisecond means a lifetime of forebearance.

Much a do about cognition and twos, as I place these into perspective, it seems to open to a multitude of stories, issues and yes - complications. I must agree that a lot has been written about second choices, about options in life, about cross roads, about being in a dilemma and all these always end up to one conclusion - that it all depends to the person who is confronted by these. Now, talk about how unfair life is, or how unfair destiny is, or how unfair our god can be. And we always end up looking for something, or someone to put a blame on. Needless to say, we find respite on these and somewhat feels that justice has been served. But, let us remember that no matter how much we deny ourselves of sanity over truth of second choices, let us bear in mind that we always confront second choices e-v-e-r-y-d-a-y. And no amount of reason can negate that.

Second choices are normal, they are part of our daily life. It’s just like breakfast, lunch and dinner. We can do away with it for a day but unsure of what will unfold for tomorrow. It can be your boss whom you prefer not to see in the morning, but by lunchtime he is there poppin' in saying "hello". In the end, we simply succumb to it or yielded to it. My dear friends, there are a lot of other metaphors that we can always relate to second choices. Inevitably, it is inherent in everyone’s destiny perhaps.

Hard or challenging as it may seem, we simply have to face the fact that for every second choice we are into, we just have to ensure that we face these choices with a wise mind. Never should we let any emotion get into our judgments, otherwise, we fail. Second choices are to be treated just like any medicine on the planet – can be bought over the counter, but only after due consideration of what is the right medicine to buy. I know, that in some instances, to fail on these choices cannot be avoided. But, that is what makes us human. Never should we expect ourselves to be perfect. We should always save one bit of sanity over a miss of imperfection. Sure, we can always cry over spilled milk, lament on it, even dare to be angry about it, but, to linger on something you have cried upon the first time may not worth it. Linger only for too long as an hour perhaps but never a day. A slice of cake which fell from the counter is worth to curse yourself for a second, but hang on, why don’t you grab another slice instead? If we all aim for our eggs to be fluffy, dare not should we beat them heavily. Hence, a fluffy life is all about to dealing with second choices carefully but without heavy beating of ourselves whenever we make mistakes.

Bear in mind that humanity’s numeric system is always being increased from time to time. From childhood when we all thought numbers are only up to 10 (ten), up to our adolescent years thinking that a hundred would suffice, until we were more than shocked that a zillionth is actually less than a hundred light years. Our choices does not end on the second. It can go a long list and we just have to choose the best. It may not be the best, it should be something worth living.

To My Soon to be Lover...

To my soon to be lover,


All these years I have yearned for you. Every day of my life is a wishing well, where I cast a coin in every pothole and wish you will come. Every night is an endless one where I always find myself staring for a falling star to wish for.

If you will come soon, I know my life will change. Every day and night will be spent in loving you. But I would wish to tell you that you will be loving a scorned heart. A heart full of hatred, pain, sorrow, agony and sadness. This is a tired heart that you will be loving. Tired of crying, of hating and of being unloved for so many years. This is a heart that has been to many endless battles in life and love. My heart has went to every struggle, every yearning, every ordeal.

Scarred of all of these, but, my heart keeps on beating and fighting and living for you. Because my heart knows, at some time, every wishing well or falling star will bear you. My heart knows, deep inside that you will be there, perhaps waiting too, perhaps praying for the same falling star that I am wishing at, or the same wishing well that I cam casting my coin at. I know, me and heart knows that you will come.

And, for you, my soon to be lover, I will just be waiting here too. In a place in this world where we can call our own someday. I am here, together with my yearning heart, in a stump, eager and strong against all odds. And I will not stop, even when the coins will be gone or every star has fallen, to hope for you.

I know you will come and I am here.


Yours truly,

Your soon to be lover too

Drizzles in the Desert

The desert moon is quietly hiding,
As it weeps with sadness and pain.
Soulfully staring at a lonely man,
Walking desolately along the street.

This night is all but the same,
From a yesterday heavy of suffering.
Unbearable, but has to be borne,
By that lonely man walking alone.

Darkness will be the same tonight.
Nothing new, even the cobbled paths.
For the heart will beat the same,
A rhythm of excruciating solitude.

Now and always, the man walks alone.
Feeling cold, feeling the drizzles
In his face, beneath his lashes,
Drizzles of sadness, of despair.

For in the desert he will be one.
No one to protect for every drizzle
That comes out from his eyes,
Coming from his heart, from his soul.

And, as he tread that cobbled path,
He will yearn but with despair
And the night will pass away again,
Leaving him under the drizzling cloud.

Enough of saying Enough

Go and walk the ways of singlehood,
When no one can keep you company.
Do not weep nor slump in a stone,
and be stolid and numb and cold.

Hold your head high like any queen,
full of conviction, pride and dignity.
Amidst any sneers, hypocrisy or cries.
There is no one in this world but you.

Live your life as you deem you should.
Why worry for other's feelings,
When at night they peaceful sleep,
And, with a bright smile when mornings come.

Enough of that sorrow and hatred and pain.
For the world is smiling at you everyday.
Your soul is still alive and breathing,
And you heart is still beating and loving.

Will you blow my birthday candle?

The clock chimes half past nine.
My friends all consumed the wine.
And I am alone.
Much as I want to sleep,
However your promise I keep.
Yet I am alone.
You would love the icing,
But the candle is melting.
Still I am alone.
Who will blow my candle?
When I thought you will handle?
Now I am alone.
Let the wind blow it.
The candle, your promise so be it.
For I am alone.
Maybe tomorrow you will knock,
In a door that's locked.
Sorry I am alone.
I can have another birthday.
And I can bear to say...
Just leave me alone.

The Other One

You bought those cherries on the table,
when an apple would have sufficed.
That ice cream looks delicious,
but waffles are better than cone.

I saw a sweet poem that you made,
made me wonder though.
When you said miles apart,
when I am here by your side.

What's with those blue jeans,
since I or you never bought one.
A package perhaps from mom,
but seems the stamp is wrong.

Now this is just but a dream.
A wash can take this blur,
of a red and blue toothbrush
when I am using green instead.

Seems I am still drunk?
For the dizziness is at its toll.
Those slippers and shirt,
not one fits my size at all.

And then everything dawned to me.
Those cherries, poems and jeans,
and the green toothbrush I see.
is for him and not for me.

Table for Three

Look at me in my eyes

and don't fill the space with sighs.

Muted, silent and far,

that is us even in the car.

I am unsure if it's the silverware,

that coldness of your hands I'm aware.

Those stares are but bland,

much worse than the steak at hand.

Think this dinner is foul,

When I have your body but not your soul.

To end this dinner is but fair,

for a table for three is the least I can bear.

.

Should I bring the slippers in the front door?

It is almost 6 in the evening and the neighbor's dogs have been barking constantly for every whine of the cars' tires passing by the rows of houses in this village. I have this feeling of excitement, of yearning, of love. At last, after a day's toil, we shall be together again. Back in each others comforting embraces...and kisses.

Anytime soon, the stew is almost done and the drink is almost chilled - perfect for a nice long dinner. Simply, I just cannot wait. Walking past the frames of memories which have dominated most of the counter tops in the living room, I look outside the window to check how dark it is. Dark, indeed. Now, I feel the need to turn on the gate lamps and ensure that the pathway is well-lighted. I should hurry.

I can almost hear the shouts of joy of our neighbor's children as they exclaimed at their daddy's arrival. Excitedly, the 2 of them are scurrying down the porch each carrying their daddy's left and right slippers whilst the wife is at the doorway with a ready welcoming smile. I should be doing the same in no time. Only thing, our cute dog will be the one to unhurriedly bring the slippers in the front door.

Table is set, and it is past 7 pm. Glancing at the wall clock, you will be home in no time. While busy reading some magazines, it dawned unto how colorful those days were. When you were crying because of some unclosed deals. When you were so worried about some client unsure of its decision. Or those lines just suddenyl appear after a long battle in the boardroom. But all these, I know, after our usual long dinners and hearty laughter, are all gone. And, by the time we say good night, you will be sleeping with a smile on your face.

And, as I continuously read some magazines, some pieces of paper fell. And these pieces papers brought tears to my eyes. And I remember the day when you walked out of the front door. I realized, that the closet is empty. I realized, that since the day you walked out of my heart, my life becomes empty with no slippers for me to bring in the front door for you.

Writings on the Wall

One stroke to the left and it's all done. I could almost see their smirks as they rush off the street after finishing that last stroke on the wall. Kids! How carefree can they become especially in the middle of the night. I wonder if there has ever been a hint of nervousness everytime they trash someone's wall. Passing by the kids' "masterpiece", it suddenly struck a chord in me when I was still young. Vividly, I can recall how we molested our classroom blackboards with our versions of graffiti. But of course, it is no match at these kids works when all we have is the dusty manufactured lime and they got spray paint.

Unaware, someone suddenly stopped my tracks as a kid approached and extended a can of spray paint to me. Confused, I gazed at him and with questioning eyes, I reached for that can of spray paint, shook it and placed it on the ground. I could almost see his smile considering that he succeeded in persuading me to get the can from him.

He motioned me to take the can from the ground and spray it on the wall, and he said, "express what is in you, the wall will be your slave for the night, the wall will hear everything but will not fight back." True, indeed, the wall has always been at everyone's mercy. And, he continued, " the wall is hard, but will never be hard on you when you start pouring in everything that is inside you, that is the duty of the wall, to accept things as they are no matter how painful, how damaging it is for him. Remember, in all the walls in the world, nothing will ever bent over on you and slap you for damaging them. It is there, built to protect you and accept all the grievances you have to the world and to the men that lives on that world."

The kid continued with his monologue, "this wall will be seen by every passer by when the sun rises, but no one will ever realize what it had suffered in the past nights. This wall will never be glorified, not even by its masters who decided to build it, but its glory overshadows every one when night time came, when no one is asleep apart from those artists whose minds have been too Venetian yet too modern to use the wall as a canvass in their artworks. And, tomorrow, these kids will be in some dingy room, relishing every bit of their canvasses in their dreams while the morning men will spat or uriniate on it."

Feeling the kid's sense of weariness, I suddenly found myself saying, "I believe, men are just like walls - being used or the user, the canvass or the trash, a protector or a slave, can be glorified or can be sneered at, can be loved or can be hurt, can be built or can be struck. Just like the wall, men are bound to be slapped, to grieve or to be grieved or to be damaged." The kid, following what I said replied, "but unlike the wall, you have to remember that we just do not stand erect. Men are pliant. Men has the freedome to choose - either to accept pain or to be pliant and to resist pain. Unlike the wall, men has the mind to control, whilst the wall will always have the heart to accept but no mind to reason out. Now, you have the option to spray that can of paint just like the wall, or be a man and have the courage to run away from every dilemma that you face?"

Living My Life Without YOU!

My lappy sits idly on my makeshift table and here I am staring desolately and trying to comprehend the new world that I am into. I used to go home with that far away look in my eyes, hoping, staring excitedly as I take the flight of stairs hurriedly into my room and immediately opening my lappy. No one knew how that 5 o'clock means to me every afternoon. Not only that I am freed from the bondage of my daily slavery but also I know, it is a new life out there for me. But today, seems things are more different than the usual. My lappy is even more than yearning as to when will I enslave its pads and give life to those words that my heart dictates. Now, what makes things far more different, is, instead of the usual Lady Gaga ensemble, I am now dominated by the slow strums of Nina. And, indeed, things will be different. Starting from now. From the day that my mind took over my heart.

Now this mattress seems to complain on heavy I am. Perhaps because of a heay heart? A heavy mind? Or, a heavy burden in the pit of my stomach that even myself I cannot decipher. And, here goes Nina again, trying to revive my heart with her binge of high notes and psalms of endless love. But, nothing, nothing can ever be able to revive this slowly-dying feelings of mine. It may be too irrational, but, I guess, I just have to live with it - just live with it. Do I have to check my mails? Yes, I should. But nothing exciting is there. Only a newsletter from some whoever who, despite securing my mail security still has landed in some database which I abhore.

Ah, now, I remember, it used to be some emails that I receive from him. I remember, how vividly he used to describe what's in a days work for him. How he has told me that he is more than happy to receive my mails. But, I know, and I am certain, that before the entire conversation ends, something pops in - like a genie! And that genie will simply dominate our half hour conversation, nothing, nothing but all about that genie. And, I simply recoil and bid bye bye. These memories are all but makes things somber.

Perhaps, I should really learn how to take those flight of stairs slowly, unhurriedly, without anything to expect for but some Facebook notifications and - end. Or maybe this time, I can dwell on some surly individuals that I may chance upon some dark street and be in a quick bliss and take off. But maybe, I can be more gluttonous this time without bothering to see myself in the scale and simply throw my trainers. Now I remember some unfinished essay that I have deal with otherwise I lose business.As the list of comtemplations go on and on, I realize life without him means a total overhaul in some of routines but at the same time revisiting the old me of which I should have taken cared more rather than set the other me aside. I may sound a bit positive in this part but I guess this is what I should take when living a life without him.