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. Then 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.

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

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.”

Something to laugh about.

Something to laugh about.

One of these days I’ll have a new chore and that would be laughing as I stalk your Facebook timeline. I would be laughing at you and your new pet. “Aww. isn’t this just nice?” “Who knew he’d act like this?” “For someone who claims he’s an ‘epicurist’ when it should be called ‘epicurean,’ look how far he’s come to find this new girl…” Then again, “Aww, this is just nice.” To hell if I sound and seem bitter but I guess that would be me relishing my so-called happiness and contentment on the kind of life I have now.

Maybe it is difficult to work with my bodyclock switching on at 5:30 in the morning when I badly want to marry the bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I struggle making sure that I keep a lifestyle where I keep me feet on the ground by still doing the same things I do even before I even learned that I already have a job. Maybe it is hard for me to think about how I have to spend my hard earned money. Maybe I still find myself questioning why I took a job where I work 10 hours a day and get curious how I suddenly got to where I am now.

All these things and more swim in the pool of my thoughts wondering if I made the right choices in life. And then there’s you… Your eternal face etched deep in the core of my thoughts when it first learned what it’s like to be attracted.

“Adulting” made thinking about my future adventures a part of my system. The system never ate me. I devoured it whole. Because I thought it would be better to get the best of it than let it get the best of me; let alone get ahead of me. And that is something I try so hard to avoid.

Sure. You may ask why I exert so much effort avoiding that situation but the reason is clear. I would rather not make the same mistake I did before and look back… It’s a fucking time vortex in there. A rift in the fabric of my reality that is a fixed point in time and is a piece of my history that can never be undone. I have no other direction to look at other than forward and not back. At the same time, I have to make sure that none of the relics of you stand in my way as I tread through my journey. You bear no place in my heart anymore.

We had a chance. Twice. Perhaps it wasn’t even called a chance at all. It was a point in my life where it just had to pass and whenever I have to look back, I just have to keep singing the words “I’ve just seen a face” and cut it there. Because “I can forget” and no, “I have ‘not’ fallen” and no “you never kept calling me back again.” Everything else was all me; me and my mistakes and false hopes and dreams and me welcoming a calamity which I regret setting a place on my dinner table for.

Now, back to the part where I choose to laugh while stalking your Facebook timeline. As I read through your own train of thought -if it even deserves to be called one- I think that I’m happy I have claimed my freedom. I owned the key to the shackles I bound to myself and all I had to do was unchain myself and leave my own prison. I keep recalling that episode of my life and I’m left wondering. When will that new pet of yours realize that she is trapped in your dungeon of lustful desires and selfishness? If not that then I wonder, when will you learn that your selfishness and lustful desires will make you a sad man for the rest of your life? I do hope either of those limbos will end really soon.

And until that fateful day comes, I shall be laughing. At the back of my head. My laughter is too precious to be wasted on your story knowing I’ve come to make mine worth more than myths and fairytales.

The planes over my head.

The planes over my head.

The sound; the engines cry
Your voice so loud
The sound ran dry
But love, every moment fed
Behold the planes over my head

Where rain like tears fall
Familiar, the sight, the wall
And behold time, love; Sped
All the planes over my head

The clouds come forlorn
The echoes of when you were born
Come, love, with me in bed.
Away the planes over my head

Away the misery spell
Tonight my love
I lay wishing you well
Spirit and soul, together, fled
Behold the planes over my head

High on the mountains
My body stand hence
Love I finish the verse instead
Watching the planes over my head

Steps, move; one by one
Four moons while I am gone
I’ll come home, love
Come to your head
Like the planes over my head