Last time I checked.

Last time I checked.

The system swallowed me whole the way the sunrise did. It rises over and I cannot keep the light off me. I’m covered in and out that even if I try to keep my mouth shut, your eyes won’t cease to see, that I am screaming.

“Sorry,” you said. Like a routine. Like a greeting fresh from the morning brew. I can smell it. It sends a vivid image of sincerity and a warm embrace like compassion. Like love. And I’m home.

Last time I checked, I loved you like the sunlight. Clear as the day I said I’m going to jump because you said you wanted to fly. Assuming that you would fly, I had the confidence to say I really will jump and come up to the sky. I don’t even need to ask you to try and catch me or whatever because I didn’t care much about where the wind will take me. I just knew I would be safe. I knew that I would be at home in the clouds with you because you said you wanted to fly. I knew you would.

You haven’t even taken off and I think I’m too far off from the cliff. Fucking fuck Mcfuck. Where have you been? Where were you all this time?

I wandered off alone on the horizon. I saw the horizon. I saw the storm. The thunder stung like what the fuck. I wasn’t even prepared for the blinding light, the deafening clap, the wounds, the scars. Last time I checked, I have had enough of that.

Last time I checked, I really loved you because I kept trying to keep my mouth shut. You kept your mouth shut because I told you so. You kept it shut even when I am screaming, hoping you would find me. I kept screaming so anybody could find me. I have lost my voice and I still kept screaming. All because the whole time I yelped for you, I was watching your back running like your running with someone but that someone wasn’t me. All this time, perhaps, you thought that was me.

So, where have you been? Because last time I checked you said you love me you said you’re afraid to lose me you said want to wait for me you said you said you said you said and I’m tired holding on to empty words you fucking said.

Last time I checked you said you would let me go. For once, I believed one thing from you. That this time, this time, for sure, I would be free. But I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to be free. Deep down, I was never ready. But I always have been free; it was my choice.

I thought there was some sort of handcuffs that bound me to you and I happily embraced it because I was with you. Then again, I have gone far off the cliff. You haven’t flown to catch me or save me because last time I checked, you said “It’s up to you.”

I have never felt this lost my entire life and I’m just waiting to reach the bottom rock.┬áThen again, I have gone far off the cliff.

You may think you are a dragon but you’re a lizard to me.

You may think you are a dragon but you’re a lizard to me.

Annoys and annoys me.
You’re presence is toxic.
The way you extend out your tongue
Exudes with fumes
And I fuel it until I become fire

Fire fuels me as I fuel the fire
I now am the fire.
Don’t crossover.
I will burn you.
And you will burn.
To the ground with grit;
To pieces. To ashes.
To particles of fuck
Like the fuck you are.

I like the sound of your caffeinated brain

I like the sound of your caffeinated brain

I like the sound of your caffeinated brain
I like the way the train
Of your thought sail through
Oceans

or horizons, if you will.
After all, you are a pilot,
you, flyer, you man with wings, you

The role of the engineer. The role of the technician.
But they all seem French to me.
Sounds amazing but you never understand.
Tempting even when you’re under a spell
sealed with a wondrous kiss.
Wake up, love and realize
You are not prepared for this, this, this

My love, this–
is how you speak when you had coffee, this–
is how you speak when you sing to me, this–
is how you speak when you lie to me, this–
is how you speak when you breathe and eat me, like–

The role of the engineer. The role of the technician.
But they all seem alien to me.
Sounds familiar but I always get lost
Amazing even you step on slippery slopes
sliding to a downward spiral.
Wake up, love and realize
You are not prepared for this, this, this

My love, this–
is how you tell me you love me, this–
is how you tell me I will be fine, this–
is how you tell me (fuck) we will be fine, this–
is how you tell me you promise, this–

I like the sound of your caffeinated brain
I like the way the train
Of your thought sail through
Oceans

or lies, if you will.
After all, you are a pilot,
you, lover(liar), you man with wings, you

Aircon buzzing

Aircon buzzing

And then it all went down to this. The stale fragrance of the rain. The nothingness of the moment. And me.

I, Vicentia, sit alone in an empty office. I had my lurk around from the familiar corners of the room that I don’t even care about. To the right-hand corner sits the door and from there to the wall in front of me, a wide desk. It functions as a table and a shelf basically anything we might bother to leave there every now and then. Over this spot, a wide shelf carrying books in coordinated in colors. Another separate shelf sits by the left-hand corner of the room. Behind me, as I sit here on the centerpoint of the room, more desks, more office chairs. They are as empty as the room.

The aircon disintegrates the quiet of the room. It sounds static and repetitive and boring. It is the kind of sound that makes you feel sad.

“It’s time,” said the other man whom I thought wasn’t in the room. As he said that this, one of my bosses stepped in and grabbed his mob of mugs on the reception desk to the right side of the room.

‘Oh, is it.’ I thought. I didn’t bother thinking about what’s next or what’s to come at this time. I didn’t notice much that the man in the room was singing. At this point, the singing went a little louder than the usual.

The buzzing aircon sound reemerged from the nowhere in my mind. Blocking the noise seemed too difficult now.

I don’t exactly know what comes next after this scene but I am pretty sure this is not going to end well. Who knows. ‘Only-who-knows’ knows.

Pahinga

Pahinga

Ang kapahingahan ay hindi lamang nararapat
para sa mga taong pagod.
Ito’y para sa mga taong nangangailangan
ng yakap. Mga uhaw sa haplos ng buhay
na hangin na waring nag-uudyok ng hangaring
ipadama ang halina.

Halika, wika pa niya.

Ipapaalala ko na may kanlungan ka.
Ipapaalala ko na yayakapin kita;
Kahit pa sa higpit ng pagkakabigkis
Ng aking mga bisig
Salitang mula sa bibig
Madama ang pag-ibig
Sa paghilig
Sa pagsibol
Ng dati’y nabubulok
Nagmumukmok

Animo’y kay tagal naghihintay sa sikat
ng araw; nakadungaw sa kalawakan
Pero hindi mo masilayan ng buo
Bitin, araw-araw, bitin
Kahit anupang awitin
Hindi maatim magreklamo
Magsumamo na sana tuluyan nang sumikat
Ang liwanag na taon na ang binibilang
Kung mag-inarte ay dinaig akong
Dumadaing sa pagkakataong

Sandali lang naman
Makapagpahinga naman
Teka ako naman
Baka sakali naman
Kung pwede naman
Dahil pwede naman
Ano ba naman
Itong buhay na hindi naman nananadya
Hindi naman nagsasawang
Biguin ako
Dahil sandali lang naman
Makapagpahinga naman
Teka ako naman
Baka sakali naman
Kung pwede naman
Dahil pwede naman

Ang kapahingahan ay hindi lamang nararapat
para sa mga taong pagod.
Ito’y para sa mga taong nangangailangan
ng sandali. Mga uhaw sa ngiti ng buhay
na pag-asang nag-uudyok ng hangaring
ipadama ang halina.

Halika, wika pa niya.

Ipapaalala ko na may kanlungan ka.
Ipapaalala ko na yayakapin kita;
Kahit pa sa higpit ng pagkakabigkis
Ng aking mga bisig
Salitang mula sa bibig
Madama ang pag-ibig
Sa sandaling paghilig

Status

[7-30-16]

Dear Reader,

I cannot believe that it’s been ages since I last personally wrote to everyone who was interested in whatever the f*ck I wanted to say on my blog. I know it sucks that I mostly act like a ghost in here. But hey, I guess it’s reasonable that I publish updates now.

  1. I earned my Bachelor’s degree in majoring in English. I marched last April in the PICC Plenary Hall. I’m one of the surviving graduates of Polytechnic University of the Philippines Batch 2016. Also I’m one of the fortunate ones to graduate with Latin honors.
  2. I’ve started working in my Alma Mater, De La Salle Araneta University (I went to this school for High School) in the Lasallian Language Center as an ESL Teacher. I’m on my second month as an employee.
  3. I’m still the same old me. Worked up about the things I want to do, the places I want to go and the things I want to keep in life. For the mean time, this will be enough. I will keep buying things I need to survive and save up for the beautiful things I want to make living the now more fun and interesting than I expected and dreamed.

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Cheers to exiting the university life. Behold the gate; there it is, waiting for me. All I have to do is step outside, keep walking and just let life happen as it does.

— Annie Sparkle

PS: I hope to put up more photos, posts and weekly stuff to make this blog more exciting. Ayt? I love y’all.

Before August

Before August

The age of majority comes a ringin’
Messages; reminders that I’m not always
Always a kid dreaming, reeling the fantasies
I conjured at night in a safe haven

in my head.
There’s a room full of sparkles
and hope and fear, evolving.
They run and jump turning, around the
seemingly vast space of possibilities
cramped

Every night.
I watched them live and die and be
Born in a time where a journey like no other
Dawns before my very eyes.
And it’s painful to watch all the sparkles change.

They once have had wings
And eyes
And love
And poetry
And minds that uses its faculties
As creative and as chimerical as possible.
“Where have they gone?” I asked.
I questioned myself in a dream.

Now it’s the eve of July 31st.
I woke up this morning hearing a quiet response.
“They did exactly what they had to do,” it said.
“With or without your knowing,” it whispered.

“They grew up.”
I asked, “Like I did?”
“Not just yet.”
I’m left not feeling my face,
Not having a clue what to do next.
Until it said,

“They’re waiting for you.”