Bliss

Every time I’m on my way home from a graveyard shift, I always opt to sit in the front passenger seat so I could take a nap along the way. Sitting on the middle part of the the UV Express makes it hard for me to catch that precious nap due to frequent disembarkations made by other passengers alighting along Taft-EspaƱa transit. I usually pay for the two seats in front so I could sleep peacefully without worrying that I could miss my drop off.

But this morning, I only paid single seat because I don’t have an extra to pay the other one. I just hoped that no one will jump in beside me in that 20km trip which is very unlikely but not impossible. I was so sleepy that I can’t even remember where we’ve picked up my seatmate eventhough the driver already woke me up and asked me to unlock the door for her. She alighted at LCP so I had the chance once again to shut down for the remaining 7km of travel.

I guess I slept too deep that when the driver woke me up, I was disoriented and felt a little shocked when I found out I was the only passenger left.

“Sir, malapit na po tayo.”

Maybe he saw me looking at my back to check if I was really the only one left.

“Hanggang Philcoa lang sana ako e. Kaso di na kita ginising. Alam kong pagod ka. Hirap kumita ngayon, kelangan pa magpuyat..”

“..kahit kami hirap, grabe traffic at mahal ng gas ngayon.”

All I can reply was “oo nga po.”

I was stucked on his words that have shown sympathy. Of noticing how tired I was. Of being thoughtful and compassionate enough to let me reach my drop off than waking me up to be transferred to another UV Express and cut his trip to save 6km worth of his gas. I can’t even remember the last time a stranger have shown such kindness, selflessness and modesty to me that he considered my daily life battles over his own. I almost tear a little as I alight from his vehicle.

“Salamat po, ingat po kayo..” is all I can say for his courageous gesture of basic human kindness.

May the God you believe in bless you, Kuya. You’ve made me feel blessed on a Monday morning. Bless you for starting a great week.

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Pretense

I find myself staring at the warm glow of the lighting fixture. The sound inside the coffeeshop and the cold environment makes me sleepier as I dwelve in your silence.

I was still trying to understand how such perfect creature have lost its appeal to me. Or whether I am numb enough to not feel any chemistry between us. I used to try and peek into your soul through your eyes. But I have seen nothing more under that hard core so I stopped trying.

Maybe I just really cant understand your path for we’ve been travelling too different roads. Or maybe I prefer staying within my walls for safety than reach out more. And maybe you’ll see me in the same way that I see you after all these fiasco of emotions. With romance out of sight. Just someone who can fill this boredom or someone who can make sense of the void within. But then again, we are jigsaw puzzle piece that doesn’t really fit.

I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t even know what you really want. And I can’t think of any reason behind those coffee invites or spontaneous trips. You have shown no interest in me during our usual talk, and it seemed that you’re seeking attention and praises that I cannot give. If you wanted me to swoon for you, you gotta do better to knock me off my feet. Because right now, those light bulbs seemed to sparkle more than your eyes. The music makes more sense than your blabber. And the walls seemed to show more personality than you.

And behind this mental mumblings of mine, I also asked myself why I kept saying yes to these invites. You are a subject I do not wish to write about, yet here I am, imagining your face behind these words.

Sterre

Dark nights usually remind me of you. How vast our universe is and how big and bright star you are. I always wonder how I would burn to ashes on a single touch of your skin. How I would crumble and melt by the warmth brought by your proximity. And how I’d rather get blind just to be close to you.

And it doesn’t take a wishing star to answer all of these. For the circumstances of syzygy on a dark night like this had been laid in our path. And the attraction seemed evident but repelled weakly by other celestial forces I may have ignored just to pursue the course I knew would destroy me in the end.

In time, I’ve experienced first hand and in awe the beauty of you as a star. How I slowly decipher the kind of rays you elicit and how I try to breathe above the overwhelming glow that you kept on giving. I saw how rigid your surface, how crooked your path and how delicately sophisticated and sensitive you were. And immediately, I saw the proof of my sure demise upon contact.

How glorious it was to see something beautiful like you closely. How sad it was to know that eventhough our paths are about to meet, we will only crash in this course. We were perfect. But not for each other. And while you’ll survive and serve as a wishing star afterwards, granting some wish of another boy; I am already a falling star leaving nothing but your memories in stardust.

Grinch

Few days before christmas I was still waiting for its spirit to come unto me and bless my dying soul with euphoric madness. This year’s christmas seemed to be very different and stressful for me compared to the other christmas in the past. Barely heard soulful christmas music, children carol just for the sake of few coins, and those blinking lights have lost its magic in my eyes. The metro traffic was too heavy you’d rather stay at home and spend your days rewatching movies and jacking off to porn. I have opted to ditch invites of meet ups with colleagues and college acquaintances just to avoid look-at-what-I-have-achieved bragging game and unnecessary questions of marriage and career plans. I rather spent my nights staring empty towards people who smiles and winks at me thinking I’m checking them out. My tolerance to bullshit, self-serving attitude and I-am-priveledged behavior hits rock bottom so much I could spite and throw a punch that could land on someoene’s face almost immediately.

These moods swings are starting to get a little harder to manage. That if I buy handcuffs to prevent myself from promiscuous one night stands, my mind would rather play with my kinks of having someone being tied up in bed, under my total control. That if I saw someone whose behavior irks me, I’ll make sure anything or anyone around me could feel my irritation. That if I feel sad in the morning, I’d fake a smile all the day and cry myself to sleep by night.

And I wasn’t sure if these moments of depressing downpours and aggressiveness were brought by almost ordinary days pretending to be a part of christmas season due to the political and economic climate that this country have or; the neglectful eating and lack of workout have start taking its toll on my degrading physical and mental status.

But one thing I’m sure of. I am far from being happy.

12

The movie had so many miss. The same with the actor’s failure to deliver in some scenes. The unnecessary punch lines and shouting almost made me walk out of the cinema.

But then again, you’ll eventually forgive and forget those miss shots for those eventual hits. Hits that strike so hard you could feel the pain resonating in your bones from the inside. You’ll feel the hollowness within and you’ll start remembering things and feelings you’ve never wanted to feel because of a failed romance.

Alessandra De Rossi on the other hand still delivers what is expected from her. Her character is the embodiment of the person I have the tendency to become in the future. The one who gets lost his ownself after giving almost everything for love. The one who keeps every fucking single thing inside him until it consumed all the life and all the love out of him. Then he would live his life, with apathy in his eyes, feeling pain but dead inside.

Though the movie was executed with respect of the coping stages, the cohesiveness of the clips could be better. The roller coaster of induced repetitive-feelings at some point already gets tiring. The river of emotions only gets easy to flow with towards the end of the movie. Where you started to understand everything. And you started to see where each characters are coming from. And you feel both of their pain. And that’s where Ivan Padilla rises up. You can see the fragility, the crushing of ego, and the pain in his eyes. When he just let his eyes tear and his calm voice crumbles.

I seldom do create blog reactions from movies, and I wonder why this one catches less attention that it deserves. Worthy of the shed tears and endured pain, this movie is a must-see for those hopeless-romantic and for those who suck with goodbyes like me.

Saudade

I shouldn’t have opened the door that I closed the last time I saw you. But your name popped into my mind like a ghostly whisper minutes before the witching hour. And remembering your face made me feel something inside. Like an excitement before taking your first happy pill. I know that it will be bad, but we need poison from time to time to know if this life is still worth living. So I decided to peek at the only hole you left me with.

And you never failed to serve me rollercoaster of emotions. From knowing that you’ve started looking for meaning in your almost perfect execution of your life up to the pain of knowing that the positive demeanor and enthusiasm during our meet up was caused by someone else and not by me.

I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, you have someone to inspire your eyes and your heart to execute your art hidden under your fingertips. That ain’t me. I had to accept that I will never find traces of my existence in your words. Nor my visions in the colors you combine. But what’s painful is that, I have let you be tattoed in my memories and engraved in my heart. You inspire the pain I keep within. The kind of pain that reminds me of living. The kind of pain from looking for something right from same old mistakes and chasing someone for the wrong emotions.

I had to accept the fact that we had (if ever there is) was nothing but a bittersweet romance; that you will never write for me while I can’t stop writing about you.

Lost Soul

Yes, I know. I easily get tired of the present. Of the usual, the routinary, the repetitive, and the common. I easily find myself detached to relationships, to things and to most people. Most of the time, I find myself staring aimlessly, with thoughts wandering to different lands and different scenarios that most people would find absurd or whimsical.

I frequent some places suitable for long hours of day/night dreaming, of continuous speechlessness and muted conversations. Places of high altitude, wind lightly whispering in my ears, with citylights twinkling in the distant. Like fallen stars blessing the dark land with some unspeakable beauty. And for one, I have as always, remained speechless.

Yet here I am, still detached from earth. With all these wandering, daydreaming and staring; with all these unquenchable wanderlust I’ve been trying to satisfy, and all the foreign lands I’ve been exploring, all of these be attributed to that one simple reason. I am on continuous search of that supreme connection. The reason of my existence. The purpose of living. To find my place here on earth. Maybe if I do find my place, things would somehow make sense. That all these struggles are worth it, and all those sadness for no reason would finally be gone, those tears would not be wasted, the loneliness would disappear and the fight for existence would finally be real.

The twist? One must become one with the earth to find that connection. Ironic isn’t it? That the reason for struggling for existence could possibly be learned upon death. That things would make sense in a glimpse when you have seen death in front of your eyes. And the supreme connection you’d be having is the one with the universe.

So maybe I’ll wander around for now.

Until I accept death as an answer.