Aside

Tingling

 

my toes              are

 

after

drowning

 

 

from

 

 

cups

 

of

caffeine

too

 

 

much.

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Afternoon musings

[a six-word poem prompt:]

look into your heart;
discover thyself

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afternoon musings
diving to my diary
laughing at my antics
ignoring the insanity

laughing with the wind
tickling my hair and ears
singing to the clouds
hopping ‘n walking about

discovering thyself
through your own eyes
and not from the others’
will reveal your greatness

Nang mawala ka sa akin,
ikaw at ako’y nawalan

Ako dahil ikaw ang minahal ko nang lubusan at

Ikaw dahil ako ang sa iyo’y lubusang nagmahal

Ngunit sa dalawa ay ikaw ang higit na nawalan

Dahil pwede kong mahalin ang iba tulad nang pagmamahal ko sa iyo

Ngunit ikay di mamahalin nang kung paano kita minahal.

Ernesto Cardenal

Ciudad

At bigla kang nawala.

Paalam, pag-ibig, paalam.

Nakaalis ka na.

Walang iniwang bakas.

Umiikot ang ciudad:

Parang gilingan na

dinudurog ang lahat.

 

Ciudad
ni Angel Gonzalez
Berso Sa Metro

Digging Words

loweeda web

My father loved the sound of words and the rhythm of sentences. He had stock phrases that he would repeat on specific occasions, more for the sheer delight of saying them than for any inherent purpose. My mother’s musings about what to make for dinner would be met by the suggestion of “pheasant under glass”; if she wondered what to wear to an event, my father’s perennial response was “your blue chiffon,” which I do not believe was ever part of her wardrobe.  I quite often enjoyed these pronouncements and the flair with which they were delivered, and whenever I laughed at hearing one of them, my father would lament that he was nothing more than “an endless source of amusement.”

It was the choice of words that amused me, though, even more than my father’s presentation of them – the progression of vowels and consonants in succession, the music…

View original post 521 more words

The art of walking

The Unquantified Self

“Walkers are ‘practitioners of the city,’ for the city is made to be walked. A city is a language, a repository of possibilities, and walking is the act of speaking that language, of selecting from those possibilities. Just as language limits what can be said, architecture limits where one can walk, but the walker invents other ways to go.” ― Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking

I’ve been a walker all my life.

When I was little, I walked from necessity. I spent my childhood outdoors, and to get from home to anywhere you had to walk.

When I got a little older I woke up to the liberating power of walking.

I walked hundreds of miles on the streets of Berlin when it was still fenced in, still somewhat pockmarked from the war, wistful and forlorn. I walked the ruins, I walked the East, I walked the West. I…

View original post 545 more words

Dare

Dare to be different
despite of pressures.

Dare to choose
whatever’s good for you.

Dare to reach your dreams
despite failures.

Fate grants dreams when the
heart incessantly pursues.

Dare to stand for
what you believe in.

Dare to say NO
and make wise decisions.

Dare to keep still when
the world tells you to
“Keep moving!”,

for these choices
will affect your future.

Dare to keep your feet
on the ground.

Dare to be silent
when you want to shout.

Dare to smile
when everything hurts.

For one way or another,
your choices will
change the world.

The 5 Stages Of Having A Crush (Thought Catalog)

One of the most annoying things in life is having a crush.

You think about them all day, look at photos you’ve snapped together, stare at their Facebook constantly, and every time your phone buzzes you hope it’s a text from them.

I used to love having a crush, I even sought them out. But in my old ages of being a 20-something I am over it. Sick of it. Because the second most annoying thing in life is having a crush on someone who doesn’t like you back, which happens 85.76% of the time.

I swear, crushes do nothing but crush your soul…OK, that was dramatic, but it still sucks to have a person you think about all the time look you in the face and say: Sorry, I just want to be friends.

So today, I am going to walk you through the stages of grief that you will most likely experience once your crush crushes your dreams of running off into the sunset, adopting children, and having Olivia Newton-John perform at your wedding.

Remember, all grief comes in 5-stages, especially grief induced by crushes.

Stage 1: Denial

When you finally tell your crush you like them and they laugh uncomfortably in your face and you’re like:

Later that day you tell your friends that your crush doesn’t like you and they try to console you and you’re like:

But inside you feel like:

Stage 2: Anger

The next day, after the tears and ice cream, you wake up angry.

Like really angry.

And all you can think about is: WHY DOESN’T MY CRUSH LIKE ME? I’M AWESOME.

Stage 3: Begging

Eventually the anger subsides and they send you a text or you run into them, and all those crush feelings come back. So you begin to beg.

And beg.

And beg some more.

This stage could also be called “desperate.”

Stage 4: Depression

Once you get all the begging out of your system, you come to the realization that you will never be with your crush. Cue: depression.

Though you may be keeping it together in front of everyone, inside you feel like this:

Especially every time someone mentions your crushes name.

Some nights you find yourself sitting on the floor after a shower because it’s, like, so much more comfortable there. On the floor. In a towel. Crying.

Stage 5: Acceptance

One day you wake up, the sun rises, and you feel happy. This happy feeling is at first shocking, because you’ve only known sadness and anger and depression for days. You smile.

You get dressed up and go out for a night with friends. You feel pretty. People think you look pretty.

And then someone mentions your crushes name and you snap on them.

Thus, restarting the process. All. Over. Again. TC mark

 

A Loner’s Ode To Oreo

Note: This poem is one of the impromptu poems I wrote in our English class – which was three years ago (I was in junior college). Our professor told us to write about our favorite food. His aim, if I can remember it correctly, is for us to learn how to write a descriptive essay of some sort. But I was depressed that time and really bored so I ended up writing a poem instead. My professor was quite impressed with the poem (despite of my non-pursuance to his rules). But, not really. He asked me why I copied a poem from somewhere when his rule is for us to write a descriptive essay. Good thing, I was in a good mood to defend myself. After 3 years of sitting in the back (this is my way of “avoiding the world”); after 3 years of not being heard, I walked past my classmates and faced the big guy. I told him with a sweet smile on my face that I wrote it. He was delighted! Whew. And, yeah, that was a winning moment. 🙂 So, hurrah! A+ for me! :B
 

 

Every night,

as the dark arrives,

as the shadows glide,

to their perspective flights,

I silently devour;

a gustatory sensation

of this, undeniably,

heaven’s delight.

 

First, I retire

to the kitchen.

Looking to my left,

then to my right,

making sure that

no one’s there…

 

I open the refrigerator,

slowly,

expectantly,

yearningly,

hungrily,

like a hunter

searching for its prey.

 

At last! I saw the prey,

my treasure, my escape!

my consolation

when in depression…

 

My family is sleeping

in their beds, dreaming

Yet, this is the only moment

I always save for myself’s enjoyment

 

I tiptoed

through my bedroom;

I tried to bring off

this awaited juncture.

 

I sat on my favorite

escape chair,

reach for the books of

SPARKS and OG MANDINO…

to celebrate this event

of Friday-night relaxation..

to read and

to engulf;

devour;

swallow;

my comfort food,

my favorite food

in the world…

my Oreo.

 

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings

 

Incessant

tumblr_inline_mngyhuN7Ox1qz4rgp

 

Whenever you’re near

I try to silence myself

To drown in my own space

To hide what I can

 

I am bound in my castle

I am afraid of being free

I am anxious of choosing

Whom I should be

 

I am chained to pursuit

idealisms and pleasures

in darkness, I’ve found love

in silence, I’ve found light

 

I am silencing my heart

I am shutting off my mind

for fear that my love for you

will grow – incessant.

 

I have discovered miracles

inside this dark castle

despite of these high towers

trying to stop what it can’t.

 

I have discovered boundless love;

the rainbows and sunsets;

the songs of the waves and wind

I heard them calling your name.

 

I will sit still in this bondage

as I wait for your coming;

as you leave your footprints

in this castle of nowhere…

Bricks and Pieces

Image

A friend showed me this picture and I was instantly touched by its beauty. So, whenever this happens, I write a poem. An extemporaneous poem, that is. Whenever I write poems, I want to make sure that it comes from my heart, so I do not edit them and I just post them in my blog right away. Just like the time when I wrote Black Hole, The Spell Of Stars, Every DayHow Will I. So, you might find this poem different unlike the others, but this is what I came up with after seeing the beautiful picture above…So, here goes:

Brick by brick
shadows collide
as if, calling me,
haunting my life

Brick by brick
I see pieces forming,
something small or big
yet, it’s too puzzling

Brick by brick
everything around me
is building up rapidly
like the sun that never stops rising;
like death that never stops haunting

Brick by brick
my life is slowly forming
to become
something wholly…
yet I felt
something ending…

Brick by brick
shadows collide,
I see the pieces forming,
everything around me…

my life is slowly forming
to become
something wholly…
yet I felt
something ending…

Brick by brick
Something is about to end
Yet I don’t want to see it coming
I don’t want it to end yet

Black Hole

 

If only I could sleep under the vastness

of stars and sail away in the deep cloudless

sky that is willing to let me lost to horizon

and willing to see through the oblivion

 

I would fish out stars and hang them as lamps

I would inhale clouds and exhale them in jars

Then you could sleep soundly even I’m afar

Then you could breathe deeply even I’m gone

 

All I ask of you is to never cease on hoping

All I ask of you is to never cease forgetting

Once there was an angel who came to rescue

your soul, swimming in the black hole…

Raya Martin

The 29-year old Martin is the first Filipino to be accepted at the prestigious Cinefondation Residence of the Cannes Film Festival and the first Filipino to have two entries at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival Independencia and Manila). His video installation called “WMB” is one of the featured works in the exhibition Double Take, ongoing at the Lopez Memorial Museum’s main gallery until September 25, 2009. He will be using Huk sa Bagong Pamumuhay, a production of LVN Pictures, as he goes into the history of film.

Born in 1984, Martin graduated in 2005 from the University of the Philippines Film Institute with a degree in filmmaking. He has been receiving accolades for his work at a very young age. In 2004, his short film Bakasyon won the Ishmael Bernal Award for Young Cinema at the Cinemanila International Film Festival and his documentary on Batanes called The Island at the End of the World won best Documentary film prize at the .mov 2005 film festival. Also in 2005, he completed his first feature film Indio Nacional. In the same year, he was granted a prestigious residency in Paris at the CineFondation, a program for young filmmakers organized under the auspices of the Cannes International Film Festival. In 2007, he was named Best Director for his film “Autohystoria” at the 2007 Cinemanila International Film Festival. His film Independencia was the first Filipino film to be selected to the Un Certain Regard section of the Cannes Film Festival, and his film with Adolfo Alix Jr., Manila, was also shown. Source

It was year 2009 when I saw Raya Martin for the first time. He featured his works in the exhibition “Double Take” in Lopez Memorial Museum and I was a student taking up Broadcast Arts then. Our professor told us to go to the museum as a prerequisite for our film curriculum. He showed to us his Track Projections short film and even up to this very moment, that is the only experimental film that I come to adore. I have never forgotten that film. It was silent, like a gazelle in the middle of the woods; yet astonishing, beautiful, and wondrous in all of its wildness, hue, and prestige. I was speechless after watching it. All I know is it left my heart yearning for more. He inspired me to make films as interesting and intriguing as his. I have decided to take my Masters in Film soon. 🙂

Here are two of his films which I think you should watch now:

Ars Colonia https://www.youtube.com/watch? v=DCudtngAqxw

Track Projections https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9ly085LXTw&feature=endscreen&NR=1

 

How will I…

How will I
be able
to remove
the sadness
in your eyes?

How to remove
the tears
that glisten
’round your
‘lids?

How to clear
the cobwebs
that blurred
your visioned
dreams?

How will I
fill your heart
with joy
and never-ending
peace?

Will my love suffice?

Or will my smile despise?

Will my joy transpire?

Or will my peace inspire?

Will I be by your side?

Or will you be mine?

Will your love resign?

Or will I ever survive?

Every Day

every day,
hope springs
in sudden
bursts
of smile
and sweets

every day
faith flips
from dark
alleys
to unwanted
musings

every day
trust breaks
free from chains
made by
our own
mistakes

every day
I’m standing,
soaked in,
waiting,
under this shed
of tears…

every day
as the rain pours
as the bus stops
as the music fades
as the shadows
hide

I am here
still feeling,
still waiting,
still hoping,
still praying

I am still…
in vain.

THE SPELL OF STARS

 

The utterance of sounds

slowly crippling on the walls

Trying to be heard

Trying to be rogue

 

Whisperings in silence

under hundreds of sheets

could always be felt

even away a-hundred feet

 

In time of the tides

music slowly jives

in the middle of the night

under the sleeping sun

 

Another day passed by

Sleeping on a rock;

Sleeping to neverland

under the

spell of stars

6 Things Girls Need To Stop Obsessing Over (Thought Catalog)

vonSchnauzer

vonSchnauzer

1. Our crushes.

Everyone teaches us since we’re little girls that the best way to get someone that we might be into is to sit in the corner and stare at them with longing, waiting for the moment when they spontaneously decide to take up the initiative and make the move on us. It results in a lot of grown, adult women who only know how to secretly obsess over their object of affection in secrecy and hope that it’s all going to work itself out. Hell hath no fury like a woman whose crush isn’t getting online and Gchatting her at the time she wanted them to. It’s just unhealthy, and lets the whole arc of a non-existent relationship come and go when nothing has actually happened. We have to mourn the losses of people we never actually had in the first place.

2. What people think of our appearance.

It’s a lie, and it can’t be stopped. We think that a big part of what we’re worth is what we look like — even if we try not to, even if we don’t think we do, even if we can sometimes push it out of our minds. There are always going to be those moments where we feel like the ugliest girl in the room, and therefore the worst, because we imagine that what we look like is a direct reflection of the person who is inside of us. But this couldn’t be less true, and we know it deep down. It’s just an immediate response to walk in somewhere and wonder how someone is judging us on an invisible scale, even if we never consider it when we’re alone.

3. Our weight.

Our weight is not an automatic reflection of our health, or our desirability, or our happiness. It shouldn’t really mean that much, all things considered. Especially when we’re agonizing over two extra pounds or a little ripple of cellulite on our upper thighs. But the world won’t be happy until every woman is standing in front of the mirror, pinching little pieces of skin and wondering how she can become a better person by weighing a few ounces less.

4. How we’re doing in relation to other women.

It’s just an easy way to keep us all clawing at each other, instead of noticing how scarce we are at the top. What we are in comparison to another woman in our office — just because she is a woman — is far less important than where we all are as a group. Because as long as we’re struggling for the one upper management position that’s going to be filled by a woman, we’re not going to be indignant about the fact that we’re getting table scraps and taught to be catty over nothing. We’re in competition with every man in that office as well, even if we’re mostly in competition with ourselves.

5. What other women are doing.

One woman’s actions is not and never will be a reflection on or indictment of all of us as a group. There are billions of us, and treating ourselves as some kind of monolith is absurd. Every time we get outraged at another woman for stepping out of line or “making us look bad,” we hurt ourselves and give men more ammunition to separate us into “good girl” and “bad girl” categories.

6. “Having it all.”

As long as the men we work with or date or are friends with aren’t constantly pulling their hair out over whether or not they’ll be able to balance a fulfilling career with financial independence and raising a healthy family, we shouldn’t be either. The idea isn’t to turn us all into Superwomen, it’s to realize that responsibilities are shared amongst partners and groups and communities. We should be demanding of all people that they try to find a balance in life, instead of leaving so many of the outdated gender norms in place when it comes to how much time a father is expected to be a part of his family. Obsessing over having it all is ridiculous, because none of us will ever be four different people at once. TC mark

Source: Thought Catalog

On Books and Destiny

These are the types of books that I usually eat:

Science fiction, Dystopian, Utopian, Romance, Humor, Spiritual, Inspirational, Essays, Poetry, and children’s and young adult.

Whenever I get the opportunity to get lost in a bookstore, I always remind myself to be open-minded. I do not choose a book because it has a nice cover (this is a problem because I love the arts). I want to read everything – from a 10-page children’s book to the oldest poetry book in the corner. I do not read the books that people recommend (unless you’re a really good friend of mine whose decision I trust, you’re Emma Thompson, or you’re my mom). I choose to read a certain book because it came to me. The feeling of finding the right book at the right time of my life is what makes me the happiest…it is, I think, the feeling of finding your ‘destiny’. “Magical”, I dare say, for all the right reasons.

Reversed Euphoria

I’m tired of waiting
Tired from falling
I’m tired from feeling
Tired of losing
this game

This game we’re playing
is never-ending
Don’t you know how to end it?
I think you might have ended it

But, I’m still playing…
’cause I’m still hoping
that it’s you; I knew
I’ve been waiting…

Let the rain fall
wash over my soul
remove the pain from
this empty room

Let the sun rise
light up my mind
speak and let it be
whatever destiny wills…

Life’s not all about waiting.
I know now that well.

It’s searching for happiness
It’s smiling to predicaments
even when all you knew is
sadness and misery…

Grace says, remember these three
Faith, Hope, and Love.
Hold on to Him.
Wait patiently.

It’s all about forgiveness
It’s all about happiness
It’s all about you and me
Living in peace.

What is Joy

It’s not about your money, your degree, your achievements, your years of expertise in your profession, your clothes, your gadgets, or your beauty (unless you’re KSP, we can’t argue with that). It is about lifting people’s spirits and encouraging them how to live right by being an example to them. Joy is not the kind of temporal and dense happiness that you get when someone tells you a joke. Joy is eternal and powerful that it will never remove the smile on your face even in the midst of predicaments. Never rely on happiness. Seek joy.