Our Angel Has Gone Back to Heaven

while the other tita's are cooking or talking, we play.

i remember sitting you on the table so that we can play with your birthday cake's characters. or that the morning in Los Banos when you pulled down each of our blankets just to make sure you'd say good morning to right tita. our first born always eager to experience life.

then i got busy and limited my involvement with talks on the phone that became further and further apart till almost none. then i get a phone call from your ninang that i had to see you today, cause you had said goodnight to this life.

oh how i cried to the years i could have spent with you. i know you would have hushed me and would assure me that you are in a better place anyway.

my dear Io, no words can express the spectrum of emotions i feel. i can go on with i would have wanted clauses but all that wouldn't matter anymore. all i can give now is a promise that you will never be forgotten! and that you have knocked me to the conciousness that opportunities can never be relived so we need to enjoy them when the moment is offered.

goodnight my Io, you will always be remembered...

this is for me

oh it has been a struggle
not thinking about you these past couple of days
what even makes it harder
is that you seem to have your own PR person

our friend comes in with pompoms
making sure i dont ever forget you
you should pay her well, cause she's working hard
trying to remind me each time we meet
the reason why you are who u are to me

so here i am resisting the very very (very) strong urge
not to send you an sms
while i ponder on how your day is now- with all the changes
or if i manage to slip in between your thoughts
of what to eat for breakfast or which is the best route to take
that same way i remember your when mr. curiousity plays
or when i gaze down at the white skull and bones stuck
on to my black slippers

no matter what gimmick I do, i won't seem to forget
I genuinely laughed and smiled because of you
I can exist well beyond my comfort zone thanks to you
despite this, it cannot be one-sided
however I rationalize things, there has be a give and a take
all i needed was something to hold on to, to which I got none
so I make a decision to which its consequences
I resist to even imagine
i may regret, i may swallow my words
but i am standing up for me, my spirit and my heart

i have accepted i can never own anybody
nor can I bribe a person to give me affection
no matter how much I love, or visualize, or pray
so i have to take steps forward now
i need to get back on track
and get back to my journey

mizpah 'yang...

cycle of acceptance

to hope,
to want,
and gracefully accept the opposite.
this i know.

this is how it has been,
but hopefully how it will not always be.

Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

it's simply...magic!

stranded in a railroad station,
he glanced at me and asked…do you believe in magic?
seeing no need for second thoughts I gave a smile and firmly said...
yes langga, i believe!

because I do…

here i am far from the comforts of familiarity is where it unfolds almost everyday. from the decision to pack my bags, to the daily doses of laughter and the spontaneity of little things that seem to give out a thumbs up that indeed this is part of the journey. despite the detours and road blocks, I was meant to be on this particular track.

from laying down that one puzzle piece, the rest of the pieces just seem to fit in the grooves perfectly. everyday there will always a moment to celebrate and a reason to be thankful.

that is why i believe…that in anything there will always be an opportunity for one instance that catches you by surprise…and like being in a magic show, you scratch your head and you ask…now how did that happen? well…its magic!

thought gushes

i havent been writing lately. though I may not be as great some of the people I blog-stalk or those that get published, for me writing is release. it s being able to blurt things out, sugar coat or make it a tad bit interesting with metaphors.

right now on the far south of the philippine map with pockets that have one big hole and hijacking my brother's room and his 24/7 connected pc. if only i can hostage this piece of beauty back to manila, then i can blog more regularly. sounds like a plan..ehehehe.

so here i am, letting the gush take me to find back my words.


**********

christmas day. today i was a boat ride away from where he was. from the top of that hill i glanced to the right hoping i could confirm it was kudat i could see from that point. pathetically thinking if he could be capable of brewing cheesy moments like this.

in the how many times i thought i was 101% sure that i could just walk away and let time take its course, i ended up eating those words. i could also end up eating this as well, but you are different and that makes it harder to just let it go. walking to bed in malate, i told Tag, that it would have been so much easier if you were just a pretty face and a chauvinistic prick. i want you to be that guy who called me stupid. i want to be able to find something wrong in order to let go. that's me. forever romantic. its gets difficult to handle but i've been getting used to it i guess.

if I blink

will it take me there?

to the train tracks

below the wind

I ask questions that sometimes I know the answer to. I ask them for the mere reason that the act itself might change the outcome. It's the child in me not wanting to grow up or take no for an answer.

Yes I am falling once again. Maybe not at the man that you are but at the thought of someone being there. Of you possessing traits of the weary traveler that my heart patiently waits for. At the patio this heart has been sitting, and longing for someone to open the gate.

You appeared and held on to the gate, I look up. I see you standing there, behind you a river with waves of hope, a blue & white rubber boat and paddles. After a few exchanges you fell silent. No words not even the slightest movement. Should I move forward, take your hand and usher you in? Or better yet, I wait for you to take that step forward or for you to stretch your hand out to signal me near. This is not the first time there is a man at the gate. By now I know that He sends out messengers to teach me to know the difference between desperation and when it is time. So till you do I shall be thankful of the shadow of who you could be.

I do not suffer because of your presence but instead I make you an inspiration of how it feels when my weary traveler pushes the gate open and says I am home.

my other A

never give up on the possibility,
because eventually you will know if its right or not.

so there I was again wearing my heart out on a sleeve.
knowing it could get hurt.
but I rather risk the possibility of that than letting an opportunity pass me by.

to you my other A,
thank you for showing respect and
not just pouncing on the chance.
indeed you have shown content in the life you have.
you have jumpstarted my heart once again.
inspire me some more.

There he was...by the train tracks

he was good looking.
so good looking,
I couldn't stop staring.
Photos check!
Videos check!
But it was like a mere vial to taste.
After this trip and I resume my life as a corporate slave,
He will be nothing but photos, video and a wonderful story to tell.

I am getting tired of stories.
I am tired of mere taste-only vials.
I deserve a buffet!
A lifetime supply of whatever it was I felt today.