Monthly Archives: July 2008


[my sigh, for Cy]

“it’s hard to sustain a romantic relationship. it must be the varied choices of people.. love seems to have stopped occupying the center of the universe…”

today is one of those endless days that i became sad not for myself, but for a good friend. this translation of an english song is for her. i have faith that one day, she will find someone whose dream is to hold her hand “until the stars go blue.” yun lang naman talaga ang importante.

(Pagsasalin ni Pete Lacaba ng awiting “That’s all”)

Tunay na pagmamahal sa habangbuhay
‘Yan lamang ang aking maiaalay
At ang tanging puso ko’y nakalaan sa ‘yo
‘Yun lang, ‘yun lang

Alay ko sa ‘yo’y pamamasyal sa araw
At kamay na kakapitan sa ulan
At mainit na dibdib sa gabi ng taglamig
‘Yun lang, ‘yun lang

Ang iba ay maraming pangako
At handang ibigay ang mundo
Tunay na pagsinta at pagsuyo
‘Yan lang ang maihahandog ko

Kung pangarap ko ay ibig mong malaman
Ang isasagot ko’y simple lang naman
Basta’t sabihin mong ako, ako lang ang mahal mo
‘Yun lang, ‘yun lang

why we rock

Adam and Eve

Man: Lord, why did you make woman so beautiful?

God: For you to love her.

Man: But why does she have to be so dumb?

God: For her to love you.

(enough said.)

(to upper: sorry, the male of the species was compromised. i hope you don’t get offended. tee-hee.)

a phone conversation

no one and nothing exists but

no one and nothing exists except...(edvard munch's the kiss)

freefall is a section in weight of words for masturbatory, practice writing, random quotes and pieces of poetry. similar to a tattoo where an artist sketches an outline first before the very illustration, freefall is an outline of either beautiful or monstrous sets of words to come.


“hi. it’s me. save this. it’s my second mobile number.”

“wow, new number. why’d you get a new SIM?”

nothing much, it’s just that you have a SIM card from the same network. i decided to get one, too. maybe, you’d call me once or twice a day to say hi, instead of just once a week to consult me for projects.

“cos my siblings have SIM cards from the same network.”

“oh. i thought you got one because of me. kiddiiiiing..”

you’re right, actually. you are the only one who can drive my miser self to spend money on this, to waste paper just to write your name in different font styles. your face is the last image i see before i sleep. this coming from someone who gets nightmares every night. i still get nightmares, though, but when i wake up, your face is the first one that pops up, and my nightmares slink away.

“duh. like i’d waste time calling you.”

“but you were the one who called me just now!”

because having your voice at the other end of the line already feels like a lingering kiss.

“because i need my art film collection back! it’s been with you for six months, and i’ve been dying to watch adaptation for the third time. i should charge you, like they do at VCT.”

“sorry na! will return your collection tomorrow. that all right with you?”

just drop by my house with or without my art films. they can stay with you for as long as you like. just stay with me for as long as i like.

“what time will you drop by? i might have a thing tomorrow.”

“oh. i see. you have a date?”

with you, in my fantasies: i think about them during breaks, at meetings with clients, during shuttle ride to and from my work place, even at my trips to the water dispenser.

“not really. i’m not sure what’s up, anyway. guys suck at signals, so i’m just coasting along.”

“coasting along…good.”

i hope you don’t hear my heart pounding so loud. my mom will kill me if i shatter her glass figurines.

“since when did you start minding my love affairs?”

“was thinking of setting you up with a friend. you met him at chris’s party.”

“no, thanks. i’m not interested in hand-me-downs from you.”

“your call. just don’t blame me if you end up an old maid.”

“you’re lousy. i have to go.”

“okay, bye!”

i am still here, on this very spot, where your voice rings pure and strong.

thoughts buzzing

i was going through my blog entries, and i realized, hell, i’ve been such a messed-up little girl.

it’s not in the way i work up my career. it’s not in the way i handle friendships. i figured i’ve been so messed-up with the way i put little value in my parents’ presence. i’ve been so hurt by their separation, their self-serving stories, their cheating habits, that i’ve never gotten around to mustering enough tenderness for them.

i guess perky and happy people who haven’t experienced this sort of baggage will just say to me to move on and forgive. but i did—i’ve moved on, and i’ve forgiven them, i’ve even forgiven myself, but you know how it is when something still haunts you? even if you try to shake it off, it still has a strong hold on you.

i plan to visit my dad soon, and i hope that in those moments with him, i’d learn to hold his hand with enough tenderness.

“that’s how much it hurts, that’s how much it will remain hurting, you just decide to erase things.” – taken from my entry entitled ‘feeling like a coaster’ (april 2, 2007)

coni tejada is a close friend of mine way back from college. we call each other “Hon”. i guess we do that due to the latent Sapphos in us, or simply, we care that much for each other.