Showing posts with label light. Show all posts
Showing posts with label light. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Quotes and Quoation Marks (Don't Ask Who She Is)



I had dinner with my best friend yesterday. We're in this stage of life where both of us are now working, and both of us are feeling the "pressure", or a tinge of pressure in giving back to our families. Well of course, the pressure is greater on him since he still lives with his family. Anyway, pointless as it is, just like my previous post, I will not be dealing with our conversation in last night's dinner (this is beginning to be my style in my blog entries).

Last night, I went home early (11:15, I think) and texted two of the boys in I5 (where I came from before going home to H6) with a quote from George Elliot. "There is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and recovered large." College drama it is, and yeah, got the quote from one of the episodes of One Tree Hill, whose fifth season is coming soon (well, I think). I won't divulge why I sent the boys that message... That certain message I sent them was found under the "World Spinner" folder where I keep messages that center around thing(s) which I think are necessary for making this world spin. No, I'm not talking about centrifugal force, gravity, and all the geek stuff. Rather, think anything cheesy(?) like love, and those sort of things.

Since I was already in the folders section of my phone, I went on and browsed through the other folders of my saved messages. There are two "forbidden" folders in my phone entitled "personal messages" and "personal conversations" (yeah, isn't it obvious with the names of the folders?) I checked out these two folders last night, as my practice is whenever I want to reminisce, knowing that I "cleaned" those folders two to three months ago. What I checked in particular last night was if who were the people whose messages I saved in the said two folders. I was very carefree in scanning the messages until I came about her name in the "personal messages" folder. There were three messages of her that I have overlooked upon my "cleaning" two to three months back...

I instantaneously deleted the first message that I saw containing that damned greetings of ours, that damned greeting, which for months, or even for more than a year, I knew was ours. People say that guys are very assuming, assuming in the sense that we assume more than what girls really want to say with their words and actions. I say, that may be true, but there is also a line between being harmlessly innocent and being deliberately passive. And yes, I'm talking about the girls' responsibility in shaking off someone whom they are not interested with. Though I don't practice it, and I don't advocate it, I do understand that the good thing about the "Pinoy ligawan" is the man's declaration of his pursuit for the girl. In my case however, I think five years of actions can speak louder than words. And even without those five years, isn't four months of questions a bit too long? And yeah, did I forget to mention that she and I were former good friends, if not the best of friends. I admit, and she was also saddened, that I questioned that friendship. But maybe, years of highs and lows in that friendship has pushed us both to where we are now.

Last week, another friend asked me if I will just leave things between us as they are, as she is nearing her permanent exit from the university. Also, this week, or in the coming weeks, she will be leaving temporarily for a requirement in her course... I can't sleep last night. Even in my sleep, I was bugged with dreams of our status quo... I'm tired. I know she is too. She told me, many words we have told each other before, things that hurt and things that may have over and over again scarred our already dim friendship.

I'm tired. Every time I think about it, the more I get tired. No matter how I scoff the issue, it simply saps out the chocolate highs out of me. During the past months, I can still count the unguarded times that we met inside the university and passed by as if we have not met someone we knew. The intention of our eyes not meeting make the atmosphere even heavier. Let me just reiterate that we are friends, or at least, we were. Yeah, I offered a path to reconciliation. I think, that it is her desire too. It's just that I'm simply tired of me just exerting everything and getting no response from her. I just don't understand why she won't simply exert the effort with the reason of our previous hurts, when in my side, I'm hurting too and setting those things aside just to get things fixed. I'm cornered that no matter what I do, the damage is getting deeper. I'm tired.

Yes, I've deleted the first message I saw. The next two messages, I thought thrice and decided to keep them. The next two messages contained an inquiry of my SP presentation time (last year) and an encouragement that I could do it. The messages were sent ten and a half months ago. I decided to keep them because I want to keep hope that things are gonna be okay, despite how tired I am right now of the situation. Things are gonna be okay, I hope it will. And if it doesn't,... I don't know what to say next.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

No Encrypts



This piece has no encrypts, no rhymes.
Decided to write this right now because I'm tired.
Tired of crying, tired of waiting, tired of performing my duties and even more.
Although, I know after this, or even right now, I am crying, I am waiting, and performing my duties to a deeper extent.Some, duties that I don't even need to fill.
I volunteered to fill those spots (yes, that's with an s, in plural form) because I saw the urgency to have them filled. I'm a teacher alright.
I don't have kids yet. But being the eldest in a house of five makes me a dad. Well, that's what I think. I'm a dad alright.
I don't have kids yet. But being the teacher of sixteen students and overseeing them in an outside school activity makes me a dad. Well, that's what I think. I'm a dad alright.

To you, whom I want to reach but I can't because you wouldn't want me to... Three dots is what I leave.

To you, who just passed by after descending the stairs, and saw me standing by the first door... I'm taking it slow. It breaks me, but that I gotta accept. Healing isn't easy, yeah I know.

To you, whom I always count on. I know you're praying for me. Though our communication is less, I know we're still accountable to each other. Sorry for all the rants. I wasn't even able to ask your needs. How selfish of me...

To you who doesn't even reply and continues on coming in at nights, mornings even, I don't know what to do. Is your smile a mask or your words a curtain?

To You who hear me out always. I know You are hearing out. I know that Your pain is greater than mine.

This piece has no encrypts, no rhymes.

Friday, November 2, 2007

Shoreline

Tuesday before the Wednesday that marked the 30th,
My heart jumped upon your reply.
I saw land, but it was no easy swim.
Exhaustion from 210 days and nights before this shoreline.

On that dawn before the night of frost, my feet touched sand.
Yes, I know things are hard to mend. Have pondered that in the sea.
Yet, the Cross is Mighty, He should be praised.
Fix came on Week 30.

As I write, no more I could add.
I should stop counting weeks, I've reached the shore.
I still pray, we can bring it back, or even more.
Fix came on Week 30.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007


I always commit the mistake of not writing my toughts when they come at me.
I made a mistake, twenty eight weeks ago, alright. I made a piece about the twenty seventh beacuse my hear
t was heavy; the sorrow still lingers. The sorrow still lingers, coming back at nights, coming back at days. Nights while I pray; days while I teach. Yes, I teach "youngsters", yet I still haven't completely taught myself. Of course, I know, teaching myself is no business of mine... there's Someone I need to learn from. Someone who calms my tempest, Someone who calms the seas. I always await for the day that I see some shoreline from this sea that I'm in. In that great network I said people only see my shore; oceans hold the deepest trenches. In that great network you perfectly describe how I always feel. Those haunting nights and days when I remember. My grief remains even if I conceal it. I tried to conceal my grief this last high tide with our mentor.
Yet, I wasn't good at it. My grief showed, alright. That time was the hardest. I didn't know the signs. Is it a sign of a fix coming soon, or a fix coming never? By the time the day of confrontation comes I hope I recognize the signs when they come at me.
I always commit the mistake of not writing my toughts when they come at me.
You watched my tribute. You haven't read Week 27.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Week 27


Restless, my heart can't find its quiet.
Twenty seventh week is one week more than a half year.
It has been long, but few had been my outlet;
Less riddles in this piece, yet, some points may still be unclear.

It's not about me, it's about you, this coming Wednesday;
Wednesday it was, 27 weeks ago upon this Wednesday of yours.
A gaze is hard to do, a word is hard to say.
Inward is chaos, even if the outward seems just a normal course.

"Abba", I call, I pray that you are alright... standing.
I've left a deep scar, mine is a bleeding wound.
I pray you're doing fine, it's right that I'm suffering.
What would happen? A fix coming never or a fix coming soon.

I remember, I'm not certain since my sight then was poor.
Was running, blisters in the making, your group then saw me.
Your group jeered, thought I heard your voice too, I'm not sure.
I hope you did, I hope I was able to clearly see.

But I recall too, moments of same magnet poles.
The night before our mentor's Day; some night before Five Candles.
Bullet of indifference. A bleeding wound in my soul.
Nights I pray, this unquiet heart to hush, uneasy heart to handle.

It's not about me, it's about you, this coming Wednesday;
A gaze is hard to do, a word is hard to say.
Restless, my heart can't find its quiet.
It has been long, but few had been my outlet.
Don't know when you'll read this, don't know if you'll ever do.
I pray you're alright, I pray this message of mine you'll get.