If anyone can figure out an email me the accurate correcte version of my article elow, you're in for a real treat! Just sen it through omments. Goo luck!!!
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Why I haven't written
I've een attempting to write for the past weeks ut I foun the task to e too aruous as you will notice from my piece. My keyoar is roken an just typing the simplest article is so frustrating, it's not worth the effort anymore. However, I have nothing else to o an given that I'm reelling over a fight that I recently ha with someone, I figure, WHAT THE HEY! Let's give this writing thing a shot.
I'm sure you've figure out y now (if you're smart) what's wrong with my freaking keyoar. WEll, it's missing a couple of letters an in orer for me to write legily, I' have to copy an then paste these letters. WEll, not tonight.
This is getting too strenuous for me. Can't ear looking at all the unintelligile wors. Time to en this crap.
Ciao!
I'm sure you've figure out y now (if you're smart) what's wrong with my freaking keyoar. WEll, it's missing a couple of letters an in orer for me to write legily, I' have to copy an then paste these letters. WEll, not tonight.
This is getting too strenuous for me. Can't ear looking at all the unintelligile wors. Time to en this crap.
Ciao!
Monday, January 24, 2005
Videos, anyone?
I'm looking for sites that send videos to mobile phones... for free, hopefully. And hopefuly they allow sending to the Philippines... coz that's where I'm from. Just paste the links as comments to this post! Thanks a lot!
Thursday, January 13, 2005
the mind is a strange thing to understand
can u read this
Airdoccng to a rsrechecah at Cadmrbige Ustvieriny, it deson't matetr in waht oedrr the lterets in a wrod are, the olny iemorptnt tinhg is that the fsrit and last letter msut be at the rgiht palce. The rest can be a ttoal mses and you can siltl read it wtuhoit ploberm. Tihs is bseauce the hmuan mnid does not read evrey letetr by itlsef, but the word as a wlhoe.
Airdoccng to a rsrechecah at Cadmrbige Ustvieriny, it deson't matetr in waht oedrr the lterets in a wrod are, the olny iemorptnt tinhg is that the fsrit and last letter msut be at the rgiht palce. The rest can be a ttoal mses and you can siltl read it wtuhoit ploberm. Tihs is bseauce the hmuan mnid does not read evrey letetr by itlsef, but the word as a wlhoe.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
The Cry of Innocence
Surrounded by cool, foul liquid
In this cramped world of glass,
My living was never an option
For cruelty amass.
I never heard my mother’s voice
Nor felt my father’s touch
And it’s a shame to think that I exist
Not through love, but lust.
Sometimes, stupid thoughts bother me
And think I’m not loved at all
But then again, I am their own,
Their flesh, their blood, their child,
Won’t that be impossible?
I know I am but a small voice
But I have to be heard
Or else there will be more like me
Who cry, but are never answered!
In this cramped world of glass,
My living was never an option
For cruelty amass.
I never heard my mother’s voice
Nor felt my father’s touch
And it’s a shame to think that I exist
Not through love, but lust.
Sometimes, stupid thoughts bother me
And think I’m not loved at all
But then again, I am their own,
Their flesh, their blood, their child,
Won’t that be impossible?
I know I am but a small voice
But I have to be heard
Or else there will be more like me
Who cry, but are never answered!
Swift Things Are Beautiful
Swift things are beautiful
Like all the things that fly:
The jetplanes and the rockets
That cross the bright, blue sky.
The agile fingers of an artist
That make his paintings seem so real,
The prompt retreat of a not-so-gentleman
When he learns he’ll foot the bill.
And slow things too are beautiful:
The soft melodic songs
Matched with the elegance of a lady
Walking down the aisle to marry;
The blooming of a flower,
The much awaited arrival of spring,
The patience of all beings
To witness all these beautiful things!
Like all the things that fly:
The jetplanes and the rockets
That cross the bright, blue sky.
The agile fingers of an artist
That make his paintings seem so real,
The prompt retreat of a not-so-gentleman
When he learns he’ll foot the bill.
And slow things too are beautiful:
The soft melodic songs
Matched with the elegance of a lady
Walking down the aisle to marry;
The blooming of a flower,
The much awaited arrival of spring,
The patience of all beings
To witness all these beautiful things!
His Eyes
The cruel piercing look in his eyes
Eyes with daggers that went through me
Daggers that gave me a most excruciating pain
Pain telling me to leave him be…
But when I tried to turn my gaze away
Still there he was in front of me
With the same cold, vengeful eyes
Eyes that could not even see!
Eyes with daggers that went through me
Daggers that gave me a most excruciating pain
Pain telling me to leave him be…
But when I tried to turn my gaze away
Still there he was in front of me
With the same cold, vengeful eyes
Eyes that could not even see!
Monday, January 10, 2005
Error flash
If you're not the one for me and I still think you're perfect, just think about the one who is...
Sunday, January 09, 2005
Chris
I was a carefree young being at that time. Me with my 16 years of imprudence, idealism and naiveté. It was a peculiar time in a teener’s life when I would awaken from my slumber, hand closed up to a fist with my arm over my forehead, and just think. I had all the time in the world then.
I would thoughtlessly ask my all-knowing little self, “Why do I have to wake up every single day? What satisfaction --- if there truly were any --- am I capable of achieving throughout the lengthy 16 hours of leaving my eyes open?”
Nothing. Nothing was the answer.
I’m usually at that point of philosophical engagement with myself when my menopausal mother would holler from downstairs to ramble on about the chores that needed to be done, the corners that needed to be cleaned and all the work that won’t get accomplished by themselves. Plus that little dismissible fact that I had to go to school.
My life was basically routine.
Then I met Chris. Unexpectedly, Chris brought a twist to the utterly boring life that I had to go through. Chris broke the monotony out of my repetitive daily activities. I began to think that now, rising up every day made sense. I started looking out the window every morning, like the foolish juvenile that I was, to greet the sun before it had even risen. I came to realize the folly in my previous behavior. Why in the world should I waste precious time lying idly on my bed when I could spend those marvelous hours with Chris?
That mere thought was enough to have me jumping off my bed to take a freezing bath even during the chilly dawns of December. I began taking the time to fix myself up, making sure I was spic and span. I wanted to smell my best, look my best, and be my best for Chris to notice me. Before long, Chris did.
We met each day in that stuffy, almost broken-down classroom of ours. I wouldn’t have to wait long for Chris. Chris seemed as eager as I had been. Chris was willing to spend the entire day with me. At least that was what my ego would like to think Chris felt.
It never really mattered what I did --- as long as Chris was part of it. Whether we walked or talked, whether I laughed or Chris cried, whether we were so busy with everything or doing absolutely nothing at all. It didn’t really matter. Our activities were trivial. Insignificant.
Before I knew it, Chris and I grew closer. In fact, closer than I expected we’d be. We’d spend the entire day together --- just the two of us. We would walk around the same area over and over again and we wouldn’t seem to notice. We would be talking to each other for who knows how many hours and yet we’d never run out of anything to say. We would sit in peaceful silence for so long and the situation wouldn’t feel awkward. We found comfort in each other.
This went on for quite a while. Senior year came and we were still together. It was the most euphoric time of my adolescent life. Sure, misunderstandings were never absent but we had always been quick to fix whatever needed fixing. Until something happened between us. Something that I thought would make life even better.
I didn’t know why --- Chris didn’t too --- but things began to change for the both of us. The road seemed to go rougher and tougher as we plodded on. The walks and talks became too self-conscious. The silence became uncomfortable and unbearable.
People familiar with the both of us came to notice the change. They started asking questions. When they did, I unintentionally gave them an explanation totally different from the one Chris did. That was probably the same thing that famous celebrities wet through. Chris and I were not exactly celebrities, but it happened to us.
I was confused. Probably, Chris was, too. Probably.
I was hurt, sorrowful, anguished, melancholic. Maybe, Chris was, too. Maybe.
I don’t know exactly when or how it happened but Chris and I, well… we fell apart. Until the time came for college. Chris and I finally had to part ways. Fate brought the two of us far apart. Chris and I lost track of each other. No explanations, no farewell letters, no nothing.
During those times, I felt that waking up meant freedom --- freedom from the pain and agony that our situation has brought. Thinking that everything was nothing more than an awful nightmare. Thinking that if I woke up, I could somehow escape from that terrible reality. But I was wrong. I was mistaken.
I woke up many times, largely due to my menopausal mother’s holler, but during all those times, my burden simply added up. No amount of household chores could take the pain away.
Time flew swiftly by. I don’t know how it happened, plenty of strange things occur in a lifetime, but I started waking up with my heart filled with hope. Hope that brought me innumerable sleepless nights and many beautiful dreams. Dreams filled with lovely memories, memories of Chris.
I knew that one day, Fate shall bring Chris and I together again. Fate shall make up for all the time that we have lost. And everything will simply go back to the way it was then. The way it really was supposed to be.
And Fate did. Fate finally crossed our paths. The bliss I felt was incomparable. Chris and I would be together again.
On Chris’s 19th birthday, I received a note inviting me over to their house. It was the moment I had been waiting for. It was another chilly December dawn but even that couldn’t keep me from taking a freezing bath. I put on my new clothes and splashed some of the imported cologne my cousin brought me from abroad. I wanted to smell my best, look my best, and be my best for Chris. I went over to their house with nervous anticipation.
But my joy proved to be short-lived.
Chris was right there in front of me but Chris’s eyes wouldn’t open anymore. I tried calling Chris, trying my best, almost pleading to answer me back… but Chris never did. Chris just lay there, stiff and cold.
I held Chris’s hand but it no longer gave me the same warmth that used to keep me from shivering in the cold. I brought my ears closer to Chris’s lips hoping to hear the sweet songs that usually cheered me up when I was blue. Songs that would have kept my tears from falling incessantly. But I heard nothing. Not even a single note.
“Chris is gone, Sam, just last night,” I heard Chris’s mother speak behind me. “Chris had been sick for a couple of years now but Chris insisted not to let anyone know about it.”
Chris’s mom handed me an envelope saying, “Chris wanted me to give this to you. Chris wrote that just before the cancer made it impossible for my child to even sit straight.”
My tears blurred the words that I saw in Chris’s letter.
Dearest Samuel,
Your reading this letter means I’m probably gone by now. It’s just sad that we were not able to settle things before this had to happen. You never gave me the chance. I just hope you’ll understand why I couldn’t accept the love you said you felt for me. You were my best friend. It just didn’t seem right.
I’m really sorry. Sorry for all the times I’ve taken you for granted. It was too late for me to find out that I shouldn’t have because I realized that you’re one of the best things that happened to me. And I feel so stupid for hurting you. I missed you so much. I missed all the times that we were together. I really feel bad that we couldn’t spend enough time to talk about things that we used to talk about. But I didn’t really worry because I knew that what we have is beyond these.
I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.
Well, you know I love you. Goodbye…
Always a friend,
Cristine
My hands trembled after reading those last few words. Chris did love me. She just couldn’t love me more than a friend. There was so much I wanted to say to her. So many things that might have changed a lot of things for the better. But it was too late.
Again, Fate had to take Chris away…
And as I lay on my bed thinking about tomorrow, thinking about waking up --- without Chris --- I realized I lost the only reason I had to wake up.
No hope filled my heart, no memories filled my dreams. No Chris. Facing tomorrow without Chris would be foolish. Waking up without her would be facing a life without rhyme and reason.
So I didn’t.
I would thoughtlessly ask my all-knowing little self, “Why do I have to wake up every single day? What satisfaction --- if there truly were any --- am I capable of achieving throughout the lengthy 16 hours of leaving my eyes open?”
Nothing. Nothing was the answer.
I’m usually at that point of philosophical engagement with myself when my menopausal mother would holler from downstairs to ramble on about the chores that needed to be done, the corners that needed to be cleaned and all the work that won’t get accomplished by themselves. Plus that little dismissible fact that I had to go to school.
My life was basically routine.
Then I met Chris. Unexpectedly, Chris brought a twist to the utterly boring life that I had to go through. Chris broke the monotony out of my repetitive daily activities. I began to think that now, rising up every day made sense. I started looking out the window every morning, like the foolish juvenile that I was, to greet the sun before it had even risen. I came to realize the folly in my previous behavior. Why in the world should I waste precious time lying idly on my bed when I could spend those marvelous hours with Chris?
That mere thought was enough to have me jumping off my bed to take a freezing bath even during the chilly dawns of December. I began taking the time to fix myself up, making sure I was spic and span. I wanted to smell my best, look my best, and be my best for Chris to notice me. Before long, Chris did.
We met each day in that stuffy, almost broken-down classroom of ours. I wouldn’t have to wait long for Chris. Chris seemed as eager as I had been. Chris was willing to spend the entire day with me. At least that was what my ego would like to think Chris felt.
It never really mattered what I did --- as long as Chris was part of it. Whether we walked or talked, whether I laughed or Chris cried, whether we were so busy with everything or doing absolutely nothing at all. It didn’t really matter. Our activities were trivial. Insignificant.
Before I knew it, Chris and I grew closer. In fact, closer than I expected we’d be. We’d spend the entire day together --- just the two of us. We would walk around the same area over and over again and we wouldn’t seem to notice. We would be talking to each other for who knows how many hours and yet we’d never run out of anything to say. We would sit in peaceful silence for so long and the situation wouldn’t feel awkward. We found comfort in each other.
This went on for quite a while. Senior year came and we were still together. It was the most euphoric time of my adolescent life. Sure, misunderstandings were never absent but we had always been quick to fix whatever needed fixing. Until something happened between us. Something that I thought would make life even better.
I didn’t know why --- Chris didn’t too --- but things began to change for the both of us. The road seemed to go rougher and tougher as we plodded on. The walks and talks became too self-conscious. The silence became uncomfortable and unbearable.
People familiar with the both of us came to notice the change. They started asking questions. When they did, I unintentionally gave them an explanation totally different from the one Chris did. That was probably the same thing that famous celebrities wet through. Chris and I were not exactly celebrities, but it happened to us.
I was confused. Probably, Chris was, too. Probably.
I was hurt, sorrowful, anguished, melancholic. Maybe, Chris was, too. Maybe.
I don’t know exactly when or how it happened but Chris and I, well… we fell apart. Until the time came for college. Chris and I finally had to part ways. Fate brought the two of us far apart. Chris and I lost track of each other. No explanations, no farewell letters, no nothing.
During those times, I felt that waking up meant freedom --- freedom from the pain and agony that our situation has brought. Thinking that everything was nothing more than an awful nightmare. Thinking that if I woke up, I could somehow escape from that terrible reality. But I was wrong. I was mistaken.
I woke up many times, largely due to my menopausal mother’s holler, but during all those times, my burden simply added up. No amount of household chores could take the pain away.
Time flew swiftly by. I don’t know how it happened, plenty of strange things occur in a lifetime, but I started waking up with my heart filled with hope. Hope that brought me innumerable sleepless nights and many beautiful dreams. Dreams filled with lovely memories, memories of Chris.
I knew that one day, Fate shall bring Chris and I together again. Fate shall make up for all the time that we have lost. And everything will simply go back to the way it was then. The way it really was supposed to be.
And Fate did. Fate finally crossed our paths. The bliss I felt was incomparable. Chris and I would be together again.
On Chris’s 19th birthday, I received a note inviting me over to their house. It was the moment I had been waiting for. It was another chilly December dawn but even that couldn’t keep me from taking a freezing bath. I put on my new clothes and splashed some of the imported cologne my cousin brought me from abroad. I wanted to smell my best, look my best, and be my best for Chris. I went over to their house with nervous anticipation.
But my joy proved to be short-lived.
Chris was right there in front of me but Chris’s eyes wouldn’t open anymore. I tried calling Chris, trying my best, almost pleading to answer me back… but Chris never did. Chris just lay there, stiff and cold.
I held Chris’s hand but it no longer gave me the same warmth that used to keep me from shivering in the cold. I brought my ears closer to Chris’s lips hoping to hear the sweet songs that usually cheered me up when I was blue. Songs that would have kept my tears from falling incessantly. But I heard nothing. Not even a single note.
“Chris is gone, Sam, just last night,” I heard Chris’s mother speak behind me. “Chris had been sick for a couple of years now but Chris insisted not to let anyone know about it.”
Chris’s mom handed me an envelope saying, “Chris wanted me to give this to you. Chris wrote that just before the cancer made it impossible for my child to even sit straight.”
My tears blurred the words that I saw in Chris’s letter.
Dearest Samuel,
Your reading this letter means I’m probably gone by now. It’s just sad that we were not able to settle things before this had to happen. You never gave me the chance. I just hope you’ll understand why I couldn’t accept the love you said you felt for me. You were my best friend. It just didn’t seem right.
I’m really sorry. Sorry for all the times I’ve taken you for granted. It was too late for me to find out that I shouldn’t have because I realized that you’re one of the best things that happened to me. And I feel so stupid for hurting you. I missed you so much. I missed all the times that we were together. I really feel bad that we couldn’t spend enough time to talk about things that we used to talk about. But I didn’t really worry because I knew that what we have is beyond these.
I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.
Well, you know I love you. Goodbye…
Always a friend,
Cristine
My hands trembled after reading those last few words. Chris did love me. She just couldn’t love me more than a friend. There was so much I wanted to say to her. So many things that might have changed a lot of things for the better. But it was too late.
Again, Fate had to take Chris away…
And as I lay on my bed thinking about tomorrow, thinking about waking up --- without Chris --- I realized I lost the only reason I had to wake up.
No hope filled my heart, no memories filled my dreams. No Chris. Facing tomorrow without Chris would be foolish. Waking up without her would be facing a life without rhyme and reason.
So I didn’t.
Friday, January 07, 2005
Pocketbook
Di ko na namalayang mamasa-masa na pala ang pisngi ko.
Anak ng puto naman, romance pocketbook lang, iniyakan ko? Yaaak! Kelan pa ba ako naging ganito ka-babaw? Dati-rati nama’y nangunguna pa akong mangantiyaw sa mga dormmates kong napupuyat sa mga babasahing ganito, tapos heto ako’t may paiyak-iyak pa. Yaaak!
Pinunasan ko na lang ang mukha ko sabay gagap ng aking cellphone.
“naiyak ako sa pktbuk.corni pro npaiyak pa rn ako.hehe m22log kna ba,mike?gudnyt..”
Di naman ako naiyak dahil sa sobrang madamdamin ang nabasa ko. Parang naiinis pa nga ako dahil kung bibilangin ko lahat ng grammatical errors, aba’y kanina ko pa siguro inumpisahang sunugin ang pocketbook na yun. Pag nagbabasa ka kasi ng pocketbook, nunca mong iisiping proofreader ka. Ilayo mo na rin pansamantala sa isipan mo ang mga itinuro ng teacher mo sa Grammar and Writing class nyo nung high school. Sayang na nga ang oras mo, sasakit pa ang ulo mo.
Huwag ka na rin magtaka kung bakit sa tuwing naiinis ang bidang babae sa kanyang leading man ay umiiyak na lamang ito. Samantalang sa tuwing naiinis naman ang bidang lalake sa leading lady niya, ginagawaran na lamang niya ito ng marubdob at masuyong halik. Ganun talaga sa pocketbook, ang babae’y umiiyak lamang o hinihalikan.
Siyempre pa, kahit na ilang iyakan o halikan man ang mangyari, sa katapusan ay magkakatuluyan pa rin ang dalawang bida. Kaya siguro maraming nagbabasa ng pocketbook. Lahat tayo’y nag-iilusyon sa happy ending. Eh namputsa naman, may happy ending ba sa totoong buhay?
Sa pagbabasa ng pocketbook, masanay ka na ring puro magaganda’t sexy saka gwapo’t macho ang mga nagkakatuluyan. At kung hindi man sila parehong mayaman, ang mahirap sa kanila’y yayaman din sa huli. O di kaya’y pakakasalan rin naman ng mayaman. O kaya’y magmamana ng kayamanan. Basta, asahan mong sa huli’y mayaman na silang pareho.
Parang naiisip ko tuloy na di puwedeng magkaroon ng happy ending ang mga panget o mahirap. Kawawa naman kung ganun ang dormmate ko. Mahirap na nga’t panget, wala pang happy ending.
“tama na yan, lea.m2log kna.may psok kpa bukas.gudnyt.”
Aba, himala, nag-reply ang mokong. Minsan lang mangyari ‘to ah. Ang lapad ng ngiting sumilay sa mga labi ko habang isini-set ko ang alarm ng telepono ko para maaga akong magising kinabukasan.
Napadako ang tingin ko sa mgkaparehang modelo sa cover ng pocketbook.
Mahigit dalawang taon na rin akong may gusto kay Mike. Pero magkaibigan pa rin lang kami hanggang ngayon. Naisip ko, ipadala ko kaya sa mga editors ng pocketbook ang storya namin. Pero paano ba yan, guwapo nga siya, di naman macho. Ako, hindi na nga maganda, hindi pa sexy. Pareho pa kaming hindi mayaman. Siguro nga’y hindi pang-pocketbook ang kwento naming dalawa. Pihado naman kasing walang happy ending.
Maghahating-gabi na. Inayos ko ang kama ko’t itinabi ang mga pocketbook na nakakalat doon. May dalawa pa akong di nababasa. Bukas naman uli.
Anak ng puto naman, romance pocketbook lang, iniyakan ko? Yaaak! Kelan pa ba ako naging ganito ka-babaw? Dati-rati nama’y nangunguna pa akong mangantiyaw sa mga dormmates kong napupuyat sa mga babasahing ganito, tapos heto ako’t may paiyak-iyak pa. Yaaak!
Pinunasan ko na lang ang mukha ko sabay gagap ng aking cellphone.
“naiyak ako sa pktbuk.corni pro npaiyak pa rn ako.hehe m22log kna ba,mike?gudnyt..”
Di naman ako naiyak dahil sa sobrang madamdamin ang nabasa ko. Parang naiinis pa nga ako dahil kung bibilangin ko lahat ng grammatical errors, aba’y kanina ko pa siguro inumpisahang sunugin ang pocketbook na yun. Pag nagbabasa ka kasi ng pocketbook, nunca mong iisiping proofreader ka. Ilayo mo na rin pansamantala sa isipan mo ang mga itinuro ng teacher mo sa Grammar and Writing class nyo nung high school. Sayang na nga ang oras mo, sasakit pa ang ulo mo.
Huwag ka na rin magtaka kung bakit sa tuwing naiinis ang bidang babae sa kanyang leading man ay umiiyak na lamang ito. Samantalang sa tuwing naiinis naman ang bidang lalake sa leading lady niya, ginagawaran na lamang niya ito ng marubdob at masuyong halik. Ganun talaga sa pocketbook, ang babae’y umiiyak lamang o hinihalikan.
Siyempre pa, kahit na ilang iyakan o halikan man ang mangyari, sa katapusan ay magkakatuluyan pa rin ang dalawang bida. Kaya siguro maraming nagbabasa ng pocketbook. Lahat tayo’y nag-iilusyon sa happy ending. Eh namputsa naman, may happy ending ba sa totoong buhay?
Sa pagbabasa ng pocketbook, masanay ka na ring puro magaganda’t sexy saka gwapo’t macho ang mga nagkakatuluyan. At kung hindi man sila parehong mayaman, ang mahirap sa kanila’y yayaman din sa huli. O di kaya’y pakakasalan rin naman ng mayaman. O kaya’y magmamana ng kayamanan. Basta, asahan mong sa huli’y mayaman na silang pareho.
Parang naiisip ko tuloy na di puwedeng magkaroon ng happy ending ang mga panget o mahirap. Kawawa naman kung ganun ang dormmate ko. Mahirap na nga’t panget, wala pang happy ending.
“tama na yan, lea.m2log kna.may psok kpa bukas.gudnyt.”
Aba, himala, nag-reply ang mokong. Minsan lang mangyari ‘to ah. Ang lapad ng ngiting sumilay sa mga labi ko habang isini-set ko ang alarm ng telepono ko para maaga akong magising kinabukasan.
Napadako ang tingin ko sa mgkaparehang modelo sa cover ng pocketbook.
Mahigit dalawang taon na rin akong may gusto kay Mike. Pero magkaibigan pa rin lang kami hanggang ngayon. Naisip ko, ipadala ko kaya sa mga editors ng pocketbook ang storya namin. Pero paano ba yan, guwapo nga siya, di naman macho. Ako, hindi na nga maganda, hindi pa sexy. Pareho pa kaming hindi mayaman. Siguro nga’y hindi pang-pocketbook ang kwento naming dalawa. Pihado naman kasing walang happy ending.
Maghahating-gabi na. Inayos ko ang kama ko’t itinabi ang mga pocketbook na nakakalat doon. May dalawa pa akong di nababasa. Bukas naman uli.
Dear Mike
Andami kong dapat ipagpasalamat sayo. Di ko na alam kung saan mag-uumpisa. Siguro, I’ll start na lang with the latest.
Mike, salamat sa pagpunta mo last Saturday. Napilitan ka man o hindi, thank you pa rin. That was one of the best days of my life.
Sinundo mo pa ako sa opisina. Kinilig tuloy lahat ng mga officemates ko. Ang gwapo mo daw. Bagay daw tayo. Kelan daw kita sasagutin. Ang sabi ko naman, wala namang sagutang mangyayari kasi di ka naman nanliligaw. Basta, andami pa nilang tinanong tungkol sayo. Pasensya ka na ha, itsinismis ko na naman ang buhay mo. Pero don’t worry, panay magaganda naman lahat ng mga sinabi ko eh.
Alam mo, Mike, nung nagla-lunch tayo, muntik na akong mag-walk out. Pa’no ba naman kasi, na-mention mo pa si Aya --- sinundan mo pa ng Janice --- at talaga namang pangalan nilang dalawa ang napagkasya mo sa iisang sentence. Kung iyakin lang ako, humagulgol na siguro ako sa sama ng loob nang nalaman kong may communication pa rin kayo. Kung bayolente lang ako, nabulyawan ko na siguro yung makulit na bading na weyter natin dahil sa well-informed ka masyado sa buhay nila.
Pero di naman ako iyakin kaya walang luhang lumisan sa mata ko. Di rin naman ako bayolente kaya walang weyter na nasaktan. Puso ko lang ang umiyak. Damdamin ko lang ang nasugatan.
Pero carry ko pa rin naman ang sarili ko. Tawa pa rin ako sa jokes mo at kinig sa kuwento mo. Alam mo bang akala ng lahat, tahimik kang tao? Na boring ka at di nagsasalita? Hah! Kung alam lang nila. Eh kung tayong dalawa naman ang magkasama, puro nga iakw yung nagkukwento eh. Minsan na nga lang kung makapagbida ako. Kung ganun ka na sana ka-daldal nung nililigawan mo pa si Janice, malamang sinagot ka nun. Mahiyain ka pa kasi noon.
Eh teka, nung si Aya na yung nililigawan mo, di ka na naman mahiyain a? Ba’t mo nga ba itinigil ang panliligaw mo sa kanya, Mike?
Mike, personal question… Minahal mo ba talaga si Aya? O, don’t tell me mabibigla ka pa sa pagka-prangka ko. Maninibago ka pa ba? Eh ilang beses na nga akong nakapag-“I love you” say o dib a? Akala mo siguro biro lang lahat yun no?
Hay naku, yun ang akala mo. Ikaw lang naman tong as a friend kung magmahal sa ‘kin eh. Di mo pa rin ba alam? Ilang beses na kitang gustong pagsamantalahan, lam mo ba? Tuwing tayong dalawa lang ang nanonood ng sine, tuwing nagpe-peace be with you o Our Father ako say o, nung sabay tayong sumakay sa ferris wheel, nung tayong dalawa lang sa opisina ng nanay mo, nung nagkatabi tayo sa pagtulog, nung mga times na inihatid kita sa pier at airport… Langhiya, andaming pagkakataon na pala ang sinayang ko. Pinaka-intimate contact na yung nagyakapan tayo nung camp. Problema lang, nag-I love you ka nga, binuntutan mo naman ng “walang malisya to ha!”
O ano, baka natutulala ka na dyan? Di mo pa rin ba gets?
Akala ko nga maglalakas-loob na akong magtapat say o nung nagdi-dinner tayo last Saturday. Nung tinanong mo kung kumusta na kami ni John.
“Sinabi ko naman sa ‘yong di ko sya mahal di ba?”
Saka kahit kinakabog na ng kaba yung dibdib ko nang mga panahong yun, naglakas-loob pa rin akong tanungin kung may girlfriend ka na. Nung sinabi mong wala, mabuti na lang napigilan ko yung pagka-taklesa ko, kung hindi…
You spent the entire day with me that day --- well, the entire half-day to be exact. And except for a few painful moments, I cherished every minute that I was with you. Marahil ay nabuhayang muli ang puso kong tanga.
Maybe that’s the reason why I was very sad when you left yesterday. Kahit isang oras lang tayong nagkasama, each second filled me with elation. Nung niyakap mo ako para magpaalam, di nakaganti ang tuod kong mga braso. I desperately wanted those moments to last. I wanted to look into your eyes for as long as I could.
I was waiting for you to say something… Somehow, I was waiting for me to say something to you too.
Pero kung may mga salita man tayong ninais bitawan nung araw na yun ay di na mahalaga.
Dahil lumisan ka nang hindi natin nabibitawan ang mga katagang yun. Ngayon nga’y papel na lamang ang nakikinig sa aking mga hinaing. Bolpen ko na lamang ang nakikipag-usap sayo. Bawat luhang di mo nasilayan sa mga mata ko’y, tinta na lamang ngayon.
Wala akong lakas ng loob na magtapat sayo at wala ka ring balak na saktan ang damdamin ko’t sirain ang pagkakaibigang pinaghirapan din nating buuin. Tuluyan na nga sigurong magiging pipi ang damdamin kong matagal nang pinagbibingi-bingihan ng puso mo…
Lea
Mike, salamat sa pagpunta mo last Saturday. Napilitan ka man o hindi, thank you pa rin. That was one of the best days of my life.
Sinundo mo pa ako sa opisina. Kinilig tuloy lahat ng mga officemates ko. Ang gwapo mo daw. Bagay daw tayo. Kelan daw kita sasagutin. Ang sabi ko naman, wala namang sagutang mangyayari kasi di ka naman nanliligaw. Basta, andami pa nilang tinanong tungkol sayo. Pasensya ka na ha, itsinismis ko na naman ang buhay mo. Pero don’t worry, panay magaganda naman lahat ng mga sinabi ko eh.
Alam mo, Mike, nung nagla-lunch tayo, muntik na akong mag-walk out. Pa’no ba naman kasi, na-mention mo pa si Aya --- sinundan mo pa ng Janice --- at talaga namang pangalan nilang dalawa ang napagkasya mo sa iisang sentence. Kung iyakin lang ako, humagulgol na siguro ako sa sama ng loob nang nalaman kong may communication pa rin kayo. Kung bayolente lang ako, nabulyawan ko na siguro yung makulit na bading na weyter natin dahil sa well-informed ka masyado sa buhay nila.
Pero di naman ako iyakin kaya walang luhang lumisan sa mata ko. Di rin naman ako bayolente kaya walang weyter na nasaktan. Puso ko lang ang umiyak. Damdamin ko lang ang nasugatan.
Pero carry ko pa rin naman ang sarili ko. Tawa pa rin ako sa jokes mo at kinig sa kuwento mo. Alam mo bang akala ng lahat, tahimik kang tao? Na boring ka at di nagsasalita? Hah! Kung alam lang nila. Eh kung tayong dalawa naman ang magkasama, puro nga iakw yung nagkukwento eh. Minsan na nga lang kung makapagbida ako. Kung ganun ka na sana ka-daldal nung nililigawan mo pa si Janice, malamang sinagot ka nun. Mahiyain ka pa kasi noon.
Eh teka, nung si Aya na yung nililigawan mo, di ka na naman mahiyain a? Ba’t mo nga ba itinigil ang panliligaw mo sa kanya, Mike?
Mike, personal question… Minahal mo ba talaga si Aya? O, don’t tell me mabibigla ka pa sa pagka-prangka ko. Maninibago ka pa ba? Eh ilang beses na nga akong nakapag-“I love you” say o dib a? Akala mo siguro biro lang lahat yun no?
Hay naku, yun ang akala mo. Ikaw lang naman tong as a friend kung magmahal sa ‘kin eh. Di mo pa rin ba alam? Ilang beses na kitang gustong pagsamantalahan, lam mo ba? Tuwing tayong dalawa lang ang nanonood ng sine, tuwing nagpe-peace be with you o Our Father ako say o, nung sabay tayong sumakay sa ferris wheel, nung tayong dalawa lang sa opisina ng nanay mo, nung nagkatabi tayo sa pagtulog, nung mga times na inihatid kita sa pier at airport… Langhiya, andaming pagkakataon na pala ang sinayang ko. Pinaka-intimate contact na yung nagyakapan tayo nung camp. Problema lang, nag-I love you ka nga, binuntutan mo naman ng “walang malisya to ha!”
O ano, baka natutulala ka na dyan? Di mo pa rin ba gets?
Akala ko nga maglalakas-loob na akong magtapat say o nung nagdi-dinner tayo last Saturday. Nung tinanong mo kung kumusta na kami ni John.
“Sinabi ko naman sa ‘yong di ko sya mahal di ba?”
Saka kahit kinakabog na ng kaba yung dibdib ko nang mga panahong yun, naglakas-loob pa rin akong tanungin kung may girlfriend ka na. Nung sinabi mong wala, mabuti na lang napigilan ko yung pagka-taklesa ko, kung hindi…
You spent the entire day with me that day --- well, the entire half-day to be exact. And except for a few painful moments, I cherished every minute that I was with you. Marahil ay nabuhayang muli ang puso kong tanga.
Maybe that’s the reason why I was very sad when you left yesterday. Kahit isang oras lang tayong nagkasama, each second filled me with elation. Nung niyakap mo ako para magpaalam, di nakaganti ang tuod kong mga braso. I desperately wanted those moments to last. I wanted to look into your eyes for as long as I could.
I was waiting for you to say something… Somehow, I was waiting for me to say something to you too.
Pero kung may mga salita man tayong ninais bitawan nung araw na yun ay di na mahalaga.
Dahil lumisan ka nang hindi natin nabibitawan ang mga katagang yun. Ngayon nga’y papel na lamang ang nakikinig sa aking mga hinaing. Bolpen ko na lamang ang nakikipag-usap sayo. Bawat luhang di mo nasilayan sa mga mata ko’y, tinta na lamang ngayon.
Wala akong lakas ng loob na magtapat sayo at wala ka ring balak na saktan ang damdamin ko’t sirain ang pagkakaibigang pinaghirapan din nating buuin. Tuluyan na nga sigurong magiging pipi ang damdamin kong matagal nang pinagbibingi-bingihan ng puso mo…
Lea
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