beer tayo

last night, someone's shadow flitted in between breaths and almost made me cry...now sadness sleeps soundly in my belly and i can't flush it out.

it wills itself to sigh and breathe and sleep on its own.

it feeds on my thoughts.
it drinks from emotional vapor hovering and floating over my head, into my heart and under the soles of my feet.

i watched happy thoughts wilt under its weight. the smiles waned in its shade. the nub of wings prematurely formed were clipped as well. once more, the shadows i thought would remain muted in the background embraced the darkness of my room and blanketed me once more.

sadness is the cold lump curled in deep slumber at the pit of my stomach...no. no tummy aches. only an aching that it would yawn out of me soon. be lost in a sigh, melt in a whisper, evaporate in breath.

maybe i could drown it in a beer.

cheers, bottoms-up.

the tab is on me.

amorphous

my first meal for the day was pinched with a song.

"'coz it's my first broken heart...my dreams have almost ended, it's my first broken heart. i don't know how to mend it. tell me where do i start (do i start) 'coz it's my first broken heart"

my spoon loaded with rice and lumped with fish hang midway between my mouth and my tray as the song wafted in the air...

at the same time, an amorphous object trickled down my throat down to my navel. a lump curved into a ball then settled heavily into my tummy.
my breakfast - which was not too long ago made my mouth watery - tasted like cardboard.

i tried to shake off the feeling.
i was somehow successful, but the ball of cold vapor seemed to shackle itself in its new found home, refusing to dissipate, much more melt away.

it felt weird...
as if one is made to feel dry and awashed at the same time...one part is smiling but the other is in limbo...like catching a butterfly with your bare hands, only to discover that it is not really there...

i conjured images of my bliss list, only to find a wan smile tugging the corners of my lips...getting myself all worked up is requiring too much effort, kicking my shins and my butt is an immediate action i am almost tempted to resort to.

"PISCES: Emotions will be difficult to control but will allow you to rid yourself of the past so you can move on to a bright new future. be brave and make a to-do list of all the changes to make in the new year."

This was my horoscope a few days ago. Excitement surged through me at the initial reading, now i am at lost.

Sometimes I wish, forecasts would be a bit clearer. Colors would be more defined. Why can't blue be seen as simply blue? Why is there a need for blue to be subclassed as perwinkle blue, skyblue, midnight blue, charcoal blue, matted blue? Why can't colors be taken as they are?

sigh. of course, i know why it had to be that way.

because, colors, just like life itself takes a different shade and hue with every blackness added, with each light embraced.

sadness takes a different tone and a different toll on every individual...and the state of being happy is experienced in varying level.

the cold lump is sleeping no more. it has now clouded atop my head. nestled on my uncombed tresses. i cannot fog it off, since it is capable of willing itself into appearing and reappearing within and outside of my system...

thank God, it skipped my heart and jumped over my chest.

for a moment, i worried drowning in sorrow's cup of bitter herbs and the uncertaintly of being unable to swim back to sanity nearly scared me.

i pray for that day wherein i could swim in deep waters confidently and snorkle in life's water of surprises...

i pray for that thick blanket to keep me warm when the days gets to be too rainy for me...

i pray for happy thoughts to come in butterfly droves and for sad memories to stay muted in the background...

i pray for healing that i may afford to touch other people's lives and be a proof of God's hand at work...

that after all the hurts and the pains and the wounds and the sorrows,

life is still beautiful and a smile that was borne of healed pain is much sweeter than a fleeting kiss of a happy Janus.

morning thoughts and JAstinne

it's post-holiday blues. tugging at the sides of my blanket in an effort to stifle the nipping cold. the pinpoints of light slowly filtering my room. the pilgrimage to the bath, and the struggle with the cold vapor of this season's morning.

when the spirit has awakened, the mad rush to break the 8:00 a.m. call.
sliding my card and logging at 7:50 a.m., i know, i'm safe.

and then i quietly tugged my chair. punched open my unit and leafed through my Harry Potter 5 - a Christmas gift from my sister. sweet!

my fingers missed tapping the keyboards and so i write.
my body misses the demands of a writer's job - a writer for a steady mag or broad...and so i still write, if only to keep my fingers busy and deny rust rushing its toll in my brain.

i had a quiet Christmas spent with my family.
Christmas Day was made special - waking up to the innocent stare of my four-year-old niece, smelling her and watching her open our gifts was one of the day's simple joys that really floored me. and then my tatay came home - dinner and small talks as if nothing really happened. and i did miss him.

yesterday, i was re-introduced to STRESS.
with my beautiful niece in tow, we trooped to the mall to let her ride as many rides as she want and ogle at all the dancing lights and santas that her young eyes could absorb. we watched her finish her food and wipe her mouth in earnest, went into a frenzy when she simply said she wanted to unload some shit (hehehehehe yes! tumae sha sa mall! hahahaha), and took turns in carrying her when she got tired from all the walking.

Jastinne was simply adorable.
she babbles with lots of stories and is a one small, solid bundle of fun.
her small hands promises a lot of caring and her small kisses are more than enough balm to soothe my cares...and i could just sigh and remember yesterday's afternoon pregnant with memories of her - beautiful, exciting and humbling at the same time.

with her, i was reconciled with the kid in me once more.
eating three cones of ice cream at the same time, staring at shop windows and tapping tarpaulins. giggling over the cold and sipping mandarin orange juices....

yesterday's afternoon thoughts and memories surely nicks a place in my bliss list.

Christmas rush..rushing past me...thoughts and among other things...

Christmas peeks from atop our tree, its somewhat cool breath kissing me into consciousness for quite some mornings now.

the warmth of my blanket is one seduction i willingly succumbed to, for three straight days in row now. and there's no trace of guilt scratching my insides, only child-like pleasure coming in ticklish spurts...like skipping classes for a day after faking a tummy ache.

stepping into the day's semi-maddening Christmas rush, i was greeted with the build-up of well, rush.

People rush to and fro - dotting the avenues at first, then it becomes a stream of bodies colliding in a steady flow filling every city's niche, sealing the gaps between tiangges, avenidas and compartments of every mall.

Traffic jams flavor the start of my office trek. The incessant chatter of bonuses and conversations sprinkled with discontent punctures the ears once too often.

In the middle of the rush I take my pause and watch.

Somehow, I smile.

Christmas is rushing past me. pretty much like how a sand sifts through one's fingers. how a dew evaporates at the sun's first kiss. how the leaves of a makahiya folds at the slightest touch....that fast.

I wonder if its spirit leaves that fast as well the hearts of people who seem to celebrate it...or have they lost its essence completely.

Christmas...it's my favorite season of the year. I like Christmas best, sometimes, way much better than my birthdays.

I like the smell of puto bumbong and bibingka cloaking the air. the sound of Christmas carols filtering into my room, waking me up every weekend morning and i'd just be content spending an extra 30minutes on my sack.humming along or mentally checking the gifts i'd hope to buy for family and friends....I like Christmas mornings and Misa de Aguinaldo. Noche Buena.

the prelude to Christmas is just as exciting...company parties, dinners with friends. shopping for gifts. wrapping gifts. giving gifts. watching them open the gifts. being greeted with 'Merry Christmas'......

months before the December wind took its first nip at my mornings, i had a romantic scenario of what my Christmas 2005 would be...i would be there, sitting beside our family tree. post noche buena and all the gifts have been opened...i would be sitting there with My Guy. the lights are off saved for the tiny blinking bulbs strung up together and looped around our evergreen. and we would just be sitting there, probably drinking chai or tea. maybe sing a carol together or recap the year that is slowly coming to a close...

but that would remain to be just a pretty foresight that might not reach fruitition. because I remains an "I" and the "us" has ceased to be.

am i sad? not really. just waxing some thoughts. Christmas comes more on a reflective note this time...making me clear off some cobwebs in my mind.

the cold breeze that's quite typical at this time of the year, during this season would have frozen my heart and my spirit..but i could say, i have regained a good part of myself and i am happy.

i had happier times.
but i am not complaining.

i can smile my smile and manage a guffaw that doesn't comes off in shallow farts. =)

Christmas.
The Christmas-ey feeling hasn't reached its summit yet - well, at least in my personal barometer...but i know, it'll get there...just before the bell tolls for the Misa de Aguinaldo peels off...

halfwinged...at rest.

i allowed the halfwinged in me to take the rest it needs.
and maybe, for the better.

---o00---o0o---o0o---

halfwinged

once more i am halfwinged.

taking flight unembraced.

i have only but myself. memories cascade before me. and then at times, becomes a waterfall blur.

i seek some lift with unburdened thoughts.
shaking off some more weight, as i forego with the unpleasant thoughts. in my being, i find them no niche.

halfwinged...at rest.

i allowed the halfwinged in me to take the rest it needs.
and maybe, for the better.

---o00---o0o---o0o---

halfwinged

once more i am halfwinged.

taking flight unembraced.

i have only but myself. memories cascade before me. and then at times, becomes a waterfall blur.

i seek some lift with unburdened thoughts.
shaking off some more weight, as i forego with the unpleasant thoughts. in my being, i find them no niche.

on a passage...

"with all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy."

- DESIDERATA, Max Ehrmann

dreams may be broken and things may strike you as surreal.
cracked pots and shattered glasses.

the rain hitting you in shreds...slowly, almost as if a feather has touched your soul.
and then the heaviness would begin its descend.

first like lead, boring you down with its weight and then it slices your being from the very tips of your hair down to the smallest of your toe.

and then you bleed. and wonder.
even the soul wanders.
and then you get into thinking if it would ever come back again.

the world becomes one whole playground of lights and shadows.
colors would dodge from here and there and everything else was bland.
it was neither night or day or day and night. because limbo has become your abode.
the gray becomes your salvation and it resembles whatever is left in your concept of bliss.

even the blood that seemed to ooze from the nailbed of your fingers seem to be fascinatingly colorless. denied of the reds that palpitates with life. with nary a trace of health's pinkish blush.

and then one day the soul is reunited with the body.
the mind gets remarried to the brain.
life pulses with spirit.
and once more - the concept of love, life, bliss and faith reverberates inside the chambers of your heart. thumping and throbbing. dancing madly in every living cell of your body. encapsulated and in dire need of release, it comes of first in a smile. then in a sigh. and then colors raptured before your very eyes.

yes, one is reborn.
healing is possible.

happiness floats. and then it hovers over one's head.
waiting to kiss the foggy-eyed balloon of sadness that has curled into a perfect cloud.

like a butterfly it floats there, here and then there again.
its candy-colored wings bursting with sweetness that waits to land on the parched-cracked lips of a beloved who has awaken from despair.

i smiled. i am that beloved.
today, i smile.
today, i embrace nightfall with arms open wide. pretty much like a lover getting reunited with her lost love.
today i will cup night's face and plant kisses on its face. thankful.

reunions are sweeter when peace is cradled and faith bids you to a restful slumber with a promise of a better tomorrow.

wounds...ramblings

as i was on my way to work, on the bus, my eyes hiding on the thick retro shades i'm wearing, a sense of epiphany touched my sight...

i find it rather overwhelmingly funny, sadly quiet. for some semblance of understanding to come...how my life, in the past few days, in the past few weeks, in the recent months could be summed by the wound on my knee - which is on its healing stage, by the way.

the wound which i have incurred the past week.
the wound which has caused me so much pain, the pain numbing my leg, reduced my walk to a hobble and now, as it heals, is fastly-growing a scar which is not exactly the prettiest sight to behold.

at the onset, i sought medical attention. it was cleansed and nursed with antiseptics, which has bit and stung my skin a little too much, and all i could do was whimper.

the days which followed was no less horrible.
i walked with a funny limp. to bend was a major suffering. to descend was excruciating, in as much as going up using the stairs was a pain worth a thousand scourges.
it was a struggle.
heck, even taking a bath is a major effort.

the wound on my knee simply commanded attention like no other.

i took heed to its demand, trying to sit, walk, stand up, lie down in the most comfortable way i could manage. hoping that it would heal fast. dry up soon, so that i could walk and hop and stride the way i used to.

but then i came to be re-oriented.

healings could not be hurried.
it takes time. one has to get used to the spurts of pain inflicted.

when i fell on my knees on that particular balmy morning, the metaphor was unclear. albeit, i was unmindful of the hurt at first.

it was only this morning that i came to know, how falling on one's knees could hold meaning at various points in my life...the revealation shuttling between two dimensions that has left me, both in awe and humbled.

my fall on that pavement was pretty much like getting my heart crushed and beaten to a pulp.
getting my heart broken is similar to a knee grazed deeply - lacerated from all directions, bleeding.

in accepting a relationship that has gone awry, thoughts raced to a fleeting healing.
but one could only hope so much. pine for forgetting in an instant, is seeking a miracle.

the great Neruda could not have phrased it better:

"Falling in love is easy, it is in forgetting that we face oblivion."

Amen I say to that. And my healing, my forgetting, is set to embrace oblivion.

Time became both an ally and a foe at the same time.

Days would crawl and seconds would yawn at me, feigning healing adieu.
at the same time, giving me assurance, that tomorrow would be a better day.
but then, that's walking on the hems of sunshine....well, that's a bit part of me that hasn't been singed. walking on hope's fine lines, aching to burn some wind's caress soon.

my wound's almost healed. save for the part wherein the joint is shrouded by flesh and is always being bent. the caked skin is already itching to flake off, but the skin underneath remains tender.

soon it will.

and so will my heart.

for now, it demands less fuss - both, the wound and this fragile lump of tissues inside my chest.

though both palpitates with aching, somehow, i know i will be okay soon.

i could soon walk, hop, stride and perhaps leap the way i used to.
this time, just a tad careful, but nevertheless carefree.

now, how conflicting that could be?!!!

spell irony, that's me.

saying thank you even if you can't

there are times when it is awkward, difficult even to say thank you..how much you appreciate the sunrise and welcome the sunset. how velvety is the night. how the soft breeze that filters inside your room is a welcome change...

there are times when it is difficult to smile...coming off from a good cry. difficult even, to open your eyes and acknowledge the simply prettiness of things, the fragile beauty that surrounds you.

yes, it comes off hard to say how thankful we are to be alive.

yes, it comes off hard to say how thankful i am to be living.

but still i say thank you.

thank you for being pained, more than once.
thank you for being hurt, a couple of times.
thank you for getting bruised in my life's journey.
thank you for pricking those tears from my very core...for making me feel its heaviness as it travels to my heart and be flushed and washed out from my eyes.

my knees could only take so much fall.
my heart could only take so much pain.
and my soul could only take so much sadness.

still, i thank you.
my ALL. my greatest CONFIDANTE. my HEALER. my STRENGTH.

there's nothing much to do.

i hear paper being cut.

incessant chatter drowned by the televisions own babbling...

i stay here.
my body's here.
and yet, my heart's not in sync with the tune.