Welcome To The World Behind Your Imagination

Tiquila

2007-12-16T09:07:16+01:00

I screwed up once again. I made a terrible judgement the other night and now I'm gonna spend days in my life hating myself for being stupid.

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He is my BOSS!!!

2007-11-16T09:35:18+01:00

Among the men I encountered,this one is unexpected. I was attending a seminar workshop when I met one of the bosses in my division who at the same time was our speaker. I really never paid attention to him at first. Among the bosses in my division he was the youngest by looks but a lot older than me. After his talk he accidentally came to my table and thats the time we started a friendly conversation. He was easy to talk with. We were talking about bars and discoteque when he throw up a joke of inviting me that night togethr with his collegue of course I didnt take it seriously for he was my boss and people in our division really are suckers.I dont want to give them reasons to suck me up with intrigues. I thought he went home after we talked but he didnt. I went to the hotel's bar and surprisingly saw him there with my another boss. They invited me to their table and we conversed. I dont know if he was just drunk but he told me his life story. That night I saw the real him. I dont know what happened but the next day I was excited to see him. But then,I was pissed off by the intervening looks from my fellow participants so there was really no chance to converse.There is something in his eyes that makes me marvel and interested. Damn! He is my boss!He is far from the other guys i've met, guys of my age. But I am at ease with his company.I dont know but it really frustrates me to have this unexplained feeling right now.I really dont know what it is but one thing is for sure I like talking to him,he makes me feel nice about everything. I like looking at his eyes because I see someone so real.It sucks cause I cant even talk to him as much as I wanted to because of the intimidating faces around me.And today was the last day of the seminar and I hate it. There was no goodbye but I dont know when to see him again.Earlier,he was trying to start a conversation but I never give it a chance to stay long because of the fucking ears and eyes that was closely on us.Surely they'll be feasting on our age gap,on our work relationship and issues between us.I dont intend to create a story of "YOU AND ME AGAINST THE WORLD" because I dont know if I can fight for it. But secretly deep down I was hoping he also feels the coonection.

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Boulevard

2007-11-11T09:56:40+01:00

Boulevard

I really can’t deny that nature has a very great power over our emotion. For somehow the wide sea and the glorious sunset can ease all the pressures and stress installed in my system after a very tiresome day working. The awesome sight of the Boulevard refreshes my system. The place was just few meters away from my place.
Going in picturesque places like the Boulevard is not only a relaxing hobby but also a big help for my job as a writer. I’ve been a creative writer for 4 years. Most of my subject circulates on the cycle of life and love, a mixture of realism and romanticism. It’s easier to work outside than in a four- sided room. The outside world allows me to view life in general; it’s like a picture that shows how our life and society moves.
The Boulevard had carved some things in my life. Although it reveals beauteous things that make me feel nice, but for some reasons staying in that place brings back something from my past that I decided to burry forever. The place makes me recall it and it brought a mixed feelings of sadness and joy. The powerful waves of the sea slaps it to my face like a cold water that brings me coldness I’ve been fighting for a very long time. Yet the thought that I have found a very beautiful thing in that place dries all the raindrops that had been showering my soul.
It was in the midst of summer, four years ago when I met him. We were both students from one university. He was very good in numbers that’s why he took up chemical engineering while I love writing that I took up Journalism. I don’t know how he had entered my close world… I refused to socialize and make a lot of friends. I have reasons why I was so aloof and defensive.
Past had not been so pleasing to me. It made me isolated and insecure so badly. I have inculcated in my mind from the start that I should work harder for myself because I don’t want another worst life to live. At least I have the will of making changes in my life and building a good family that my parents failed to do for me.
I firmly do not want to follow the chaotic path my family took. I worked hard for my studies; my world was school and home. The Boulevard had been my comforting zone during my adolescent life when everything seemed to be appalling while writing had let me screamed cried all the hatred and pain inside me.
One quiet 5:30 at the Boulevard, while I was waiting for the sunset a happy family took my attention. I wished it was my family…pain had stricken me, it was unbearable and I did not notice that I was already crying. After a year of keeping all those tears for a family that was broken, suddenly it all burst out. I haven’t noticed that someone was watching me. I automatically weep out when I heard someone spoke at my back and offer a handkerchief. It was him and that was our first meeting.
I easily got up to my feet ashamed that someone has been observing me. I carefully studied him. Maybe he was thinking I’m a fool crying under the tree. And his stare drove me into a sudden reaction. I was never used to strangers, I stepped backward and run to the gate. When I got home I haven’t forgotten the man and his stare, there was something in his stare that I wished not to see him again. A warning burst out from my cold mind and told myself to sank down the strange thing that aroused in my other side. Momentarily I hated him for intervening my world but his expressive eyes somehow drained it all away and it scared me a little.
The next day, I wasn’t able to get inside the school because I dropped my ID somewhere. That afternoon I decided to take a walk to the Boulevard, taking chances that I’d find my ID again. Someone was in the place where I use to spend most of my afternoons. It was him again. I wanted to run but I don’t want him to think I am stupid so I just talked to him.
“ Hi, you ran away last day I just want know your name but you ran away”
There was a sudden rush in my face, realizing how foolish I was with what I did.
“My name is Mark may I ask what’s yours?” I was blushing and sucked inside. I was so shy that I turned my back on him. I was few feet away from him when he called back.
“Hey I just want know you Meredith.” Hearing that he knows my name made me stopped and looked back. He ran after me. I gave him a quizzical look.
“Well your probably wondering why I know your name, Meredith right?” I just gave him a nod. He told me he got my ID that I accidentally dropped. I thank him, but he did not give it back until all his questions were answered. He got my name and address since there was no way of denying it because he got my Id. That day ended thinking we will not meet again yet fate had played on me.
He once went to my place and it was followed many times. No matter how I have been hard on him, he never stopped going into my place. He talked to me even if I don’t answer and walk with me in silence. I eventually lost hope of getting rid of him. He was irksomely persistent.
One day I was on a grocery store and paying my goods when I found out that I lost my wallet, then someone from my back spoke up and told the cashier he’ll take my bill. It was a familiar voice and I was right it was him again. That time I was not irritated with his presence but thankful of what he did. We became friends and do some activities together. We go out together, laugh together and watch the sunset in the Boulevard together. He was my first close friend. He had completely entered into my life. Until one day after attending a mass together, he started to be more than just a friend. The cold chain started to ripped me again… It pulled me away from him. Day by day he stayed with me and the chain continued ripping my heart that sometimes I can’t breath anymore. It seemed that the more he tried to made me realize he wanted more that just friendship, all my ghosts and nightmares are coming back and pulling me away from him. I was like hearing a lame voice from the deepest part of my mind shouting one thing. It floats like millions of stars in the sky, like an endless darkness, like a horizon that divides my heart, and like a knife that cuts my soul… It was bringing awful things from my past that I thought I have forgotten already… I came from a broken family. My parents broke up when I was ten. I already know how to be hurt that time. I already know the concept of good family who stays together. I never wanted to be left out I was young to face all those hurtful things, to face the reality of loosing my family. My father had another woman. I can still recall all the traumatic scenes in our house. There was no quiet moment; My mother would always shout to my father and my father would always slap my mother. I always saw mama crying. Sometimes I have to cover my ears with my pillows so I will not hear all their fights. I always cry and no one was there to explain never had a home what was happening. I was alone, asking things that I don’t clearly understand. They did not break easily, mama tried to hold on but one day she was just gone. My father said she left because she never cared. I have experienced everything that a young child is not supposed to experienced. It hurt me very much. I celebrated my birthday alone; I attended meetings in school for my own. When I reached high school my mother came back. She wanted me to stay with her but my father disagreed so I decided to live in my own with the financial support they sent me. It was not hard for me to live alone since I grew up alone.
I have lived a shattered life; hope, dream, home and it scarred me deeply. It planted inside me the fear of being close to somebody, of loving somebody just to be hurt, just to experience the way my parents experienced.
I don’t want to be hurt anymore. There is something inside of me that prevails whenever people try to unclothe my emotions. It’s like a cold chain that holds me tightly from falling down to lonesome sonata and feelings that my family had planted inside me. It has crept into my mind, my soul and in every inch of my heart. It’s the feeling that everyone’s wanted to avoid, the feeling of getting hurt.
Perhaps they were right, all my feelings had been embedded because of the fear that my family had injected on me.
Maybe Eric Erickson’s theory was right; “ Any conflict not solved will just rise and rise no matter how you escape it. “ It’s like a ghost that hunts me every night and I never wanted it to be chasing and slowly killing me by pain.
Mark courted me and I tried to shove him away, he was persistent he did not stopped easily. I was afraid because the cold chain is loosing up. And I should not let it happen. So two days after the formal receiving of our diploma I ended up everything. That evening the pain was blatant in Mark’s eyes and somehow the goodbye I uttered had also killed me that night. The expression of pain in Mark’s eyes was almost the same pain I felt when I lost a home, when I decided to let love go and be caged in a cold world for a very long time. I never mind that common feeling that felt during my last goodbye to Mark. I was still convincing my self that I must stay as I was, no Mark, no pain. Few days after that night I heard that mark went to Manila. It told me one clear thing that I will never see him again, and something hit my heart, it’s more painful than before, it was very painful all this time. I’ve been protecting myself from getting hurt, from being shattered, not knowing that caging myself and letting fear of being hurt ruled my heart would hurt me more. I was so coward, coward to take chances, but nobody can’t blame me. It was not easy to eradicate anything instilled in your mind and heart.
I have made a painful mistake and how I wish I could retrieve it but maybe I needed it to wake up from all the sad things I have been living with.I should learn to let go and free the most wonderful thing I have been keeping, I should again love and beloved.
Perhaps mark would be my sweet reminder of how nice to live with love. Now I know but it’s too late.
The sunset was beautiful. It brings warmth to my soul that had been cold for a long time. And it feels good. I got up from the soft grass where I sit and decided to fold my old life that was full of attritions and fear. I walk lightly to the gate a feeling of being free, and then a voice from my back shook my whole senses, a familiar voice that I have never forgotten.
‘I was right to look for you here; you are so beautiful Meredith. Did you know that there were no nights that I don’t think of you? Your memory had been always in my heart telling I should fight for you, even if it means that I have to fight the inner you.”
That moment I freed the things that I should have said before. The Boulevard was covered with the red rays of the sun. It was the sunset again, another meaningful sunset.

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Faculty Room

2007-11-11T09:55:33+01:00

Faculty Room

I had always been tardy on doing my schoolwork and oftentimes I am reprimanded for it. My teachers are always irked on me because of my late projects and output. Sluggishness was a little persistent on my system that even at home I always get a scolding from my mom because of some scrappy house chores. But one experience changed me for good. It was a terrifying experience but I was still thankful because my tardiness and sluggishness was completely gone. The whole thing happened during my sophomore year in college.
I was rushing a paper that should be submitted a week ago but I was given another chance only that I should finish it that day before six in the afternoon. Luckily I was able to finish it. I was hoping that our professor would still be at the faculty room since it was just five fifty in the afternoon.
The faculty room was located on the first floor of the building. I was confident that I could make it on time. It was a quiet Saturday afternoon. As early as five thirty, the hall leading to the faculty room was already abandoned in silence. The stillness of the hall gave me a freaky feeling, but I didn’t have time to be scared since I was in a total hurry. As I was nearing the faculty room, I heard noises as if people are busily working. Though puzzled why would many teachers are still working hard that late Saturday afternoon, I was still thankful because after all I am not alone in that creepy building.
Rumors about ghost encounters at the faculty room had been roaming all over the school. There was once a teacher who saw a lady hanging in the ceiling and every six o’clock in the evening a chain being pulled by someone walking would be heard all over the hall. Deafening sobs of a lady who’s in pain would make your hair dance in fright. It was believed that the whole building was once prison and Spanish office. I had doubts about ghost stories so I never mind it at all. But that afternoon was a little different. Creepy feelings filled me over as I recalled the ghost stories I heard. I made gait faster, afraid that six o’clock would catch me. A sound of a ticking typewriter was slowly heard as I walk towards the door of the faculty room. Who could be using a typewriter when teachers already have computers? I just ignored the whole thing and hurriedly walk. I looked at my watch; it was exactly 6 in the evening. I was disgusted that I wasted my time recalling and feeling scared about illusory ghost stories. I just have to submit my paper and everything will be over.
I was about to open the door when I heard people talking in Spanish. It was getting louder and louder as if they were in a debate. I could not take everything anymore and wanted to run but I have to submit my paper or else I’ll be taking the subject again next year. I took a deep breath and push the door open. I almost fainted when I saw who were inside. It was a Spanish Scenario with people talking in Spanish and wearing Spanish clothes. I closed my eyes thinking it was just an illusion but nothing changed when I opened my eyes. The whole faculty room had turned into an Old Spanish Station. Someone was typing while talking to a soldier. Another soldier was having a debate with one of his colleague while being watched by some other soldiers laughing so hard. At the far end of the room was a prison cell slightly covered by a wall dividing the hall room into two. The scene inside the prison cell was still blatant at the place where I was standing. A lady was hanging in the wall, with two Spanish soldiers who are torturing her. The lady was crying out so loud as the soldiers keep on hitting her. It was a horrific scene. I wanted to turn away and run but I couldn’t move. I wanted to shout but I couldn’t utter a word. Suddenly a soldier turned to me with a bloodcurdling look. He pointed at me and as I watched him in horror the other soldiers started to come near me. I closed my eyes but a loud bang made me open my eyes. The whole place came into a commotion as if the whole place was being attacked. The people inside the office were running. Bloods are spluttered on the floor as some wounded Spanish Soldiers are frantically creeping for escape. I felt someone grabbed my shoulder. I turned around to see who it was. A soldier drenched in blood was frantically grabbing me. I wanted to kick the bloody soldier but I was so stonily- scared. I closed my eyes and prayed so hard… After uttering the last word of my prayer, I was able to breathe normally again. A slap made my eyes open… Though it was painful I was relieved to see who did it. It was my professor. “Mr. Arenas, what happened to you? You’ve been standing petrified for almost 10 minutes. Are you okay?” I just gave him a nod and handover my project. After assuring him I am okay; I immediately leaved the faculty room.
Although I did not understand what happened, I know it was real. Perhaps the whole scenario took place a long, long time ago but the troubled souls that bloodily died in that place were still there. I don’t know why I was able to witness it horribly… But one thing was instilled on me and it is making my tasks and schoolwork as early as I could. I would never again let myself be caught late in the afternoon at the faculty room. #

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The Night When I Lost Martha

2007-11-11T09:54:27+01:00

The Night When I Lost Martha

I still remember her and the times when she’ll just scream in the midst of the night. We were in the same room. I was ten then and she was by the age of seven or eight. The Center Aid Head introduced her to everybody as Bella. Nobody knows what is the reason behind her soul-tearing sobs that explores in the littlest part of the room especially in a rainy night. Her sobs could deafen every ear. It seems that every night when she sleeps she is also helplessly taken to a world of endless nightmares and fears. Her cry would make your hair dance with the coldness. I would always wake her up but she’ll just stare at me blankly with the unstoppable tears pushing down her cheeks. Sometimes I just want to hug her so tight and tell her everything will be fine but it seems that she’s taken to the deepest part of a grievous world.
I don’t even know if she hears me. I never heard her talked since she arrived in that pale building. Some kids would tease her because of that but she won’t answer back their teasing. She’ll just sit still and stare blankly in a world she only sees.
The spark of light is very aloof from her eyes just like some of the children in that building. It would batter your heart seeing the little lost souls in that center; their screams in the midst of the night, their tears… But the most soul-breaking sob was of Bella… It’s painful, so cold, and so sad… She never talked to anyone in her first week at the pale building; she just kept on uttering one name…Martha. It was the same name she screams in every night.
Bella likes to seat on the shade of the Mabolo tree. Her curly hair would be teased by the wind while she stares blankly on the green Bermudas as she softly cuddles her ragged doll and a little notebook that had been with her since the day she came to the center.
Sometimes while Bella is seated underneath the Mabolo tree the playful wind would create a little leaves storm. All the dried leaves would circularly fly in the air just how Bella’s mind fly with the day that kept her deaf and blind from the world that surrounds her.
In the midst of the game of the wind and the dried leaves, rain would just pour down. At first I don’t know what did the rain do to Bella that every time it rains she would just cry so hard. One afternoon while Bella was seated again under the Mabolo tree again, the clouds just turned dark… The Center aids did not notice that Bella was still outside until the rain started to pour down… She started to cry, it was silent at first then it turned into a sob and suddenly she started screaming. That was just the first time Bella was soaked in the rain after she was brought to the center…She was really crying hard. I ran to her and tried to get her inside the center then the center aids tried to calm her. The little notebook that Bella had been keeping slid down from her pocket as the aids was changing her clothes. Nobody has ever seen what’s inside the notebook. She never had let someone touched it. I picked it up and got curious what was inside the notebook so I opened it…
I saw a picture if a woman that resembles much like Bella. The writings can still be read although it was a little wet because of the rain. It seemed to be a diary. I could tell that an 8-year-old child just like Bella wrote it because of the incorrect spellings, messy handwritings and unformatted paragraphs. I started reading it…

Dear Diary,
I am happy becoz Martha teach me to write my diary. She said if I canat talk to her I will just write here and I am like talking her. I just celebrated my 7th birthday and Martha gave me a butiful ribbon. I hate uncle Bert. He called Martha again to his room that is why Martha did not sing me a song. I cannot understand Martha, she told me uncle Bert was our mamas brother so he is our uncle but I never hear Martha called him uncle. I wish Martha will take me out to the zoo, she promised me she would. I hope uncle Bert will be gone to a very long trip forever so he will not call Martha every night.

Dear Diary,
I am sad we did not go to the zoo. Martha has a black thing around her one eye. Rosita told me it is a black eye. I think I am bad becoz Martha cried when she came to my room. Maybe she doesn’t like monkey and scared on tigers. Maybe we can go if the black in her eye will be gone. I want to ask her when will we go to the zoo, but I think she is not okay. Maybe the scratchis in her arm is painful. Uncle Bert told me the bad spider did it to Martha. I hate spiders.

Dear Diary,
I think Martha hate me becoz she did not tell me who are mama and papa. Maybe she is also scared becoz uncle Bert told me that the bad spider don’t want her to tell or it will scratch Martha again. I want to skwiz that spider.

Dear Diary,
Martha told me that we will leav the big house and uncle Bert someday. I canat understand why we will leav. Maybe we will live with mama and papa like my classmates. I never saw mama and papa yet. And Martha is angry everytime I ask about mama and papa. She always told me she don’t know. Uncle Bert told me they died in a car crash. I wonder if that is like what happened in the tv. If we will leav I hope Martha will take tatum also. I canat leav tatum, uncle Bert hate tatum.

Dear Diary,
I love Martha very much. I think she is butiful uncle Bert think too. Last night Martha went out from uncle Bert room again and she was crying. I ask her why she just hug me. She was crying so I also cried.

Dear Diary,
I don’t understand why Martha has to stay in uncle Bert room and why she has to leav me when she go out with uncle Bert. Evrytaym she go out she is butiful with her short dress and red paint in her lips. I think thos are yummy becoz of the smell but Martha wont let me have it she said I am still small. Uncle Bert told me they will eat and dance and party and I cant go yet becoz I am small. I think that is fun but I don’t understand why Martha was sad when she go out with uncle Bert.

Dear Diary,
I was left with Rosita. I like her becoz she told me stories but I also don’t understand some of her stories. I think some are wird. She askd me questions that are wirds to. She ask me why I am culing Martha on her first name and not mother. I told her it is imposibol becoz Martha is not my mother. And uncle Bert told me to call Martha that way. Then Rosita just cried. She is wird sometimes but I like Rosita.

Dear Diary,
Last night Martha came home with the black eye again and scratchis. Uncle Bert told me the Big bad spider did it. I hate that spider. Uncle Bert gave me a burger and chocolyt. I don’t understand why Martha don’t want me to go near uncle Bert ol the time. Martha says uncle Bert is bad. But why is he giving me toys and yummy candies. But I don’t want Martha to get angry so I will not go near uncle Bert again.

Dear Diary,
I don’t nu where is Martha now. She told me she will not leav me but she is gone now. The big men in blue uniform took Martha away. I miss Martha. What if uncle Bert will come back? What if she will get me in the night? He was the big spider. I hate him.I hate him. I was scared with thunders and Martha was not there that night and Uncle Bert told me she will take care of me when she came to my room. But he was scary and he smell bad like the bottle he is always drinking every party. I was really scared that night. The lytnings are like the scary scene in the tv show uncle Bert like to watch. Uncle Bert hold my legs he said he will protect me but I was scared of him. I was really scared so I shouted. Martha said she will not liv me. I tried to run and find Martha becoz I was scared with the lytnings and with uncle Bert eyes. It was like the eyes of the monster in the tv. But uncle Bert wont let me get to the door. He squiz me. I cried. Then I saw Martha. She came to save me. She hit uncle Bert with uncle Bert favorit baseball bat but uncle Bert just laf. I was scared. Uncle Bert hold Mrtha in her arm. Martha cried. I have to help Martha but I was scared. Then I saw blood in the head of Martha. I punch uncle Bert. He just laf. He grab me. I cry and cry and Martha get the sisor and dig it to uncle Bert back. One. Two, three until uncle Bert fell down with so much blood. I was scared. Then we run and run and run. Then it was dark and suddenly some men come running they took Martha away from me. I don’t know where is Martha now. I miss her. I am scared uncle Bert might come again.

The rain was over when I stopped reading Bella’s diary. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine how could she have taken it all?
After reading her diary I slowly understood why she seemed so far away, why she doesn’t speak, why there’s no light in her eyes, why she screams at night, why she’s so afraid of the thunders and rain, why the only word she speaks is the name “Martha”.
Bella was like a little flower in a world of nowhere, a crying star in a wide-dark horizon. I know it was so hard for her to leave the night when she lost Martha. It was hard for her to get free from the horrible memories of uncle Bert.

Bella was taken to MARILAC, a center that handles special cases like her. I never had the chance to return the diary. I just hope she’ll smile again and be like the little angel that she was before. But I know that it wasn’t easy to let deep wounds heal. It takes time. Bella’s life is like a thin sheet of cloth shattered by the unforgiving mind and selfish motives of some people that took advantage her and Martha’s fragility. If only I could do something to save her from the cataclysmic world she was in, I really would do it. But I know that the only person who could bring her back was Martha; the only person she solely trusted, the only person who would die to keep her safe, the only light in times of the relentless darkness, the soft song in every thunderous nights, her angel, her friend, her mother who fearlessly saved her from uncle Bert who also was her father. #

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The Day I Saw My Father Cried

2007-11-11T09:53:36+01:00

THE DAY I SAW MY FATHER CRIED…

I could still remember that day, how will I forget it? … It was in the midst of summer when my sister Lila arrived home with a soggy and obfuscated expression. It was as if she never had slept for many nights. There was something agonizing inside her that makes her so uneasy. My sister had changed a lot. She was pale and became fatter than the last time I saw her.
Strain had filled the air between mama and my sister that day. They were talking over something that is very serious while waiting for father, which she never really do. That is why it was unusual to see my sister in the living room, uneasily waiting for our father.
The sunrays were acerbic when father arrived. His face was soaked in red and went even redder when he saw Lila. Every time father looks like that, we avoid committing mistakes. He is different from any father I’ve known. And our family is also different from some family I have known. Father has the stiffest philosophies in life. Whatever father told us must be obeyed and not be violated. He is a man of discipline and we are very scared to disobey him. I could rarely see him around chatting with some of our neighbors; he is not fond of that. Every time he is in the house he would spend the whole day in the garage fixing up things or reading a book and sometimes a paper.
Mama told us how our father was raised and how he had lived his younger years. He grew up in a poor family. At the early age his father died and a year after his mother followed. He learned to stand on his own feet and did not rely on anybody. Father struggled hardly to finish his education; he was the most determined man our mother ever described.
When father found a stable job he asked my mama to marry him and then came we, I and Lila.
We were raised in a traditional and strict home under the guidance of our father. We were not allowed to play unless we never finished our house chores, which I hated most. During my childhood years I always love staying in the neighborhood, playing with my childhood friends.
One summer day, Father made me ran for an errand. On the way home I saw my playmates playing around so I stopped over and played with them until the dark caught me. Father had imposed a rule that everybody must be home by six o’clock and that night I broke it with the unfinished errand my father gave me. He was very angry when I reached home. His fierce eyes made me tremble. I was punished kneeing in the salt for hours and cried the whole night because of my aching knee that fevered me. I hated father for that. He had always been like that, so strict and hard to break.
Father was born with the assiduousness in his system. He was the strict and most discipline man I ever knew however he could be good if you will just follow his words. I could remember when I got the first honor in the 6th grade, we’ve gone out and celebrated. He also let me join the beach party I’ve ever been asking for permission. How I ever wish he could be like that always yet, the daily routine after the beach party never changed, from school to home from home to school. There are things that my father never does, like spending time in drinking session with our neighbors, going out to fiesta and spending an afternoon in the Binggo house. I also never saw him cried, sometimes I ever wondered if father ever have cried, because I never saw him even on the death of his uncle. It seems that he is too hard to break. Sometimes I thought what would make him cry.
We grew up with the attrition in our heart that as everyday comes it was growing as we are. Lila was the eldest, and had perhaps more blind reasons to let the little seed of rage in her heart grow faster. It seems to her that father prohibited her to live a young normal life. Lila was restrained from the normal things that teenagers usually does for fun. She was not allowed to go into the outings and parties with her friends, or to join any activities, which has no connection to studies. Until one day she met Rico, a boy from the other town. He was Lila’s’ puppy love but when father discovered that, she was warned to focus her attention on studies and not to anything else. But one afternoon father caught Lila together with Rico and he dragged her home.
From that day I never saw Lila with the boy again. She was very embarrassed and forced to focus on her studies until she graduated. I could feel the little plant of hatred on Lila’s core although she doesn’t speak of that. It was strong and growing.
She was sent to school in the City College and persistently stayed in my auntie’s house although my father was not really agree. Lila changed easily maybe because father was no longer there to check her actions.
One night I was supposed to ask mama over something I stopped when I heard father talking. I know that eavesdropping was wrong but I listened still. They were arguing over Lila’s stay in the city. Father was against about it. “You know the reason Mila, and you know its right, I am just protecting my children. I would never want them to take the wrong path. It would kill me to see any of my children lost in the wilderness. Someday they will understand that.”
Somehow I was able to understand my father yet maybe I was too childish and ravenous for freedom that I wanted to reach college as early as possible to escape from fathers’ stiffness. I want to feel what Lila used to tell me. The things she can do in the city without father. She can go out with friends, she can party; she can do things she was not allowed to do.
Lila continued her college and I graduated from elementary… Rarely would Lila come home. Sometimes I would hear my parents argue about Lila’s staying in the city. But aside from that nothing more serious came. I thought things would just be fine until that day came. When father arrived Lila was very confused and scared, father’s face reddened more when he saw her. He did not utter a word nor look at Lila. Mama took father into one chair and stayed with him. I just sit in the corner and watched as Lila started to burst into tears. Father was very angry about what Lila said that I did not hear. He stand on his feet and slapped Lila, I heard him uttered a phrase in a loud voice, “Now you know why I was so strict with you and Lisa? I have gone through a lot of hard things Lila. I never wanted my children to follow that. But I failed on you.” Father turned away and went to his room, as he passed me by I saw something streamed down from fathers face. Tears. And as I looked at my father it seemed that in that quick of time all the attrition and hatred I planted on my heart melted away. Then in the midst of that hot day the rain came…it was cold and somehow it washed my heart and mind.
Lila left home after that day and came back after a week together with a man she introduced as her boyfriend and soon be the father of her child. Lila was not able to finish her studies. She has no choice but to get married for her coming baby. I slowly understood why my father cried after a long time of stiffness and hardness he’d shown. After that day that I saw my father cried I have learned to value his words more and tried to understand him in the best way I could. #

Comments

soul thoughts

2007-11-11T09:52:16+01:00

soul thoughts
It would be great if you'll leave comments or suggestions about what I have written. I aint a professional writer, but I do love to write stuffs that goes inside my mind and heart and it would really be great if someone would atleast read my written pieces.

SHE…

Under the thin-bright cloth of the moon,
reclines a maiden as beautiful as June,
She has the charm that can slay every lord,
her smile is as bright as gold.

She is a mademoiselle that sprinkles joy,
every notes of sonata will kneel if they’ll hear her voice,
she has the black hair that captivates every stranger’s eye,
she’s lovely and stands so nice.

She makes everyone marvel,
Even unusual souls deeply adore her
Her holy ghost is as white as ice
But somehow it’s covered by nights

Her words are full of mercy
But can somehow cuts bloodily
She’s comely, yet moment comes,
When silence eats her tongue

She lives in a chaotic world
And sometimes troubles fold her sword
Yet she’s calm and can face her fears
And for that everybody loves her

Smile at her; talk to her, stare her
For she is a smooth pretty girl
But she is tough like an iron sphere
She is the woman of the 21st century
A refined fighter of today
She’s the gorgeous Margie

DEAR FRIEND

Dear friend, let me tell you about the rain that day
It was heavy yet it stopped
But droplets of water came running back
It was sour and it drowned my soul
It was sharp and it cut my core

The reality cracks that I am just fooling myself
But let me, for I am so scared
Let me say I keep peace for myself
Though to hard soul and mind quest I can’t breathe

Maybe they’re right I am just scared
Or maybe to loosing I just fear
Sometimes I think I try hard to fit in
But sometimes we can’t help walk in a lame lane

Dear friend, sometimes we have to understand
That people were raised in different plans
The own me will never be change
For it’s me and I don’t want to pretend

Dear friend, I know words can’t mend
But sometimes we try hard to reach dreams
Sometimes we’re blinded by pain
Sorry, I forgot and you forgot to reach in

Dear friend, I surely know
That friends just come and goes
But only real ones leave in your heart some marks
And your one of them though you put things into last

Dear friend, tomorrow when you wake up
And you accidentally looked back
Then your fierce mind cheated you bad
I’m just here, I’ll be glad

Traveler

The sun would still shine
The rain would still fall
The rainbow would still glow
And his quest would still pursue

He’d been to the stormy world
He’d been to the cold dark world
He’d been to the world of suns
And his quest still stands

He cried and smiled
He fell and rose
He bleeds and healed
He died and lived

He is known as the traveler
And he had gone to the world of tears
A traveler who never fear to gamble
A traveler who never quit when he stumbles

He had grown with a firm thought
That the world to anyone will not salute
Not unless you have pass all pains
That a traveler should face and win

He’d been nobody
He’d been somebody
He’d been a loser
He’d been a winner
But he’s tough
He is the traveler

Before

He is miles away
His days seemed to flee
His soul flies insipidly
It believes in what they say

The blank hard walls stares at him
It mirrors his shadow so thin
It’s blankness creep to his brain
His friends brought him rain

Thy flower swayed for goodbye
His life was captured by lonely night
Thy betrayal from friend was knocking
But his heart sees no sin

His soul aims with them
But the fact is he slowly loose things
His world move through them
His surrounded by fearsome smile of friends

He is a living dead
And surrounded by awful creed
They are indeed with him
But he walks alone with face so dim

Yet his friends touches him
They secretly brought him pain
Then one cold night
His soul was waken by a deadly light

After

After a dull long life
After loosing his bright sight
A rainfall came that cleaned his heart
But it brought a bloody thud

The foolish world he built with them
Is now cracked relieved by pain
He learned to chase the word they say
And echoed it, he’ll make them pay

And now he rose with a dark dim smile
That never sees what is right
Alas, dear friends you all should beware
A bloody thud from his heart is clear…

Sunset… Sunset… Sunset

The dearest seedlings was full of mourning,
When the spark of the sun is slowly hiding
Flowers of the mignonette was deeply confused,
When the sunsets and the darkness was brought.

The voice of the great sun was still close to my ears,
Then all was silenced except the sound of fears,
Laughter’s became so hard to reached,
It really hurts when one sunsets.

But amid the sunset heaven were calm,
Even the darkness covers the beauteous things around
Forgive me, but how could the heavens be calm like that?
If that calmness makes us in a great grief stuck.

Yet heaven’s fair they always sigh,
Though if every planned sunsets makes us cry,
We must see that heavens want us happy,
By letting the sun rest and joined him happily.

MY LORD

He is only one,
He is just alone,
He is my father,
He sings me a song.

When the world is so harsh,
When people make me cry,
I just look up the sky
And in his arms I lie

Seems he is sometimes forgotten
When we are happy and rejoicing
Then it is easy to beg at him,
When we are drowning

But he never neglected us,
Instead he embraced us back
For he is our CREATOR
He is our loving God, savior.

IN THE ARMS OF THE ANGELS

We were just talking yesterday
When you quit hanging on.
All I know is you were tired
It’s hard to think that you’ve said goodbye

God has his own reasons I know
On why we are away from you
We have small chance to lie in your arms
And now he had taken you back in his hands.

Sometimes when the sky cries
I want to blame thy self
God made your way to be with me
during your tiring days
But I was scared to cry in your palm
There in my heart lies a fool sun.

And now I’m here staring blankly,
Recalling such bright past days
Now I wonder how you are
In the arms of the angels, in you’re new home so very far.

CRY

Sometimes he thinks it’s hard to stand in a battle
Sometimes he stumbles
Sometimes it’s hard to fit in a big battalion of knights
Sometimes he just kneels and cries

Sometimes his soul refuses to be stout
Sometimes he could not carry out
Fierce cruel eyes surround him
That burns his soul in flame

From his battle he’d been crying
But you won’t hear him sobbing
For it’s just place in his heavy heart.
That unconsciously made him blind

But he do believe pain strengthen things
He do believe they’ll have their end
He believe he is still a knight
Who should fight though sometimes cry.

The world must see from now to death
How a hurt knight will rise and live
The knight will swing its sword once more.
And shall travel to face you all!

He knows they are living around
Yet they are cloudy and can’t be found
How he hope their end was on his hand
And let a fiery liquid flood

Then he would hear them cry for once
Like what he felt when they left him out
And there it’ll come a cold dark cry…
That satisfies his craving mind

But from his heart lies a purely creed
That somehow makes him feel afraid…

Tata

I have to leave they’re waiting me,
I have to close my eyes and relieve the pain
I have to go because I’m tired
But something holds my heart and mind

I know you are scared confused and hurt
Please don’t weep it breaks my heart
I’ll take with me your sweetest kiss
Take my heart it’ll comfort you when at night you freeze

When silence sooth you so clearly
Just close your eyes and I’ll stand with you dearly
In your sleep I’ll hold you closely
Please don’t cry it tears me awfully

When the lonesome cry of the sky filled your ear
And tears deceived you it flowed without fear
My touch will ease your mind
My firm grip will stop your sigh

When the starry night and cold wind cooled your heart
And pain will bring a watery sparks
My soul will go down to ease that pain
My voice from nowhere will siege your fearful dreams.

I know I’ve loved a valor man
Dear you have to understand
I want to breakthrough but I cant
And you should let go and firmly stand

I might leave but not forever
It’s just my flesh that’ll disappear.
I’m still with you amid these things
I’ll just have to stay with the angels.

In your world and in my world....

In the world you live I’m fierce and strong
But in the world where I live my toughness never bloomed
In the world where you live I hum awesome songs
But in the world where I live I’m fill with lonesome songs
In the world where you live I can tell my moniker
But in the world where I live I don’t have any to utter
In the world where you live I’m fine- filled with dreams
But in the world where I live I’ve been shattered by pain
In the world where you live friends great me
But in the world where I live they never knew me
In the world where you live I have a soul
But in the world where I live it has been tore
In the world where you live people love me
But in the world where I live they hate me
In the world where you live I can talk
But in the world where I live I am mute
In the world where you live I believe in myself
But in the world where I live I really never did
In the world where you live I can say no
But in the world where I live I can’t say it so
In the world where you live people hang on me
But in the world where I live I am drowning heavily
In the world where you live I see the sun
But in the world where I live it’s all gone
In the world where you live I have identity
But in the world where I live I never found the real me…

SAVING TIME IN A POUCH

I planted a seed three months ago
It was so little when I buried it with agog
That someday it’ll grow husky
That’ll serve as abode to birds that flies freely
One day a dog came sensing it
Then tried scratching it with feet
I thought it won’t survived from the
Gruesome scratches of pooch
But a day after, it showed little leaves so gold
It had turned into a twig
So suddenly it has already bunch of leaves
Then a hard windy rain came blowing it
I ran to it and almost slipped
When the sun warmly shone a day after
It drained the residue that appears to be
Tiny tears
The wind continued to blow
And the twig never stopped to grow
One day from my sleep, I peered down my window
And the twig was waving, saying I’m fully grown
It has strong branches now
Searching the world, asking many why’s and how’s
Widening its horizon
As it had grown
Sometimes I fear every coming day
That my tree will take its own way
I’m afraid to let it go
So scared that it’ll choose a lame lane to follow
I’m so scared so see its hurt
I’m so scared to see it cry
I’m afraid that real world will show
For it’ll take my breath if it’ll
Vanish and go.
Sometimes I hope to save time in my pouch
And my sweet, lovely tree will just be there and won’t leave me out…

TOMBS

In a cemetery, where a native coldly stand
Various tomb of unknown people lie
The light was fading and it made him blind
Frightful things was clear yet to his sight it hides

He can’t hear any more himself
The tombs had made him deaf
They are like gruesome animals
With the fiery eyes that kills his throat

Phony lights deceived his core
That made him stuck, can’t move nor soar
He is too occupied on the tombs spurious things
And he forgot his own big dreams

The tombs made him move as what they says
The tombs made him act as what they used to be
The tombs made him sing with unknown melody
And yet he still can’t see

The tombs are like a growling death
That waits until the time really sets
It is slowly chewing his soul
Slayers that will take his all

It is killing his beliefs
Outlandish things it inculcates
I just hope the native would wake
Because the tombs are pulling him to the grave

Fatal Room

Behind the world of innocence,
Lie’s a gruesome room of fatal sins,
Silent cries and screams filled it,
Forlorn seeds live inside it.
The lame room tells stories
Of fears, weaknesses and obloquies,
Darkness had been a running stream,
beneath its walls of grief.

The rooms door smiles widely,
To every patrons that chooses to lie
In the bed of crucifying choice
from the weakening world of frights.

And there it goes…
Beneath the cold and horrifying room,
A throbbing elegy will come playing,
As a fanged forceps will rip little souls.

The heaven cried and will always do.
For every prodigy who passed that room
For every crippled naïve feet and hands,
That will never ever walk and touch the ground.

The dreams of the little abominated tots,
was crumpled by unwanted bearing,
and was mercilessly denied by a requiem,
Instead was throw in a box of murdered dreams.

Corazon

Comments

Politics sucks!!!

2007-10-28T11:03:51+01:00

I never liked politics eversince. It brings out a lot of crazy stuffs. But no matter how I tried to hide or turn my back, it is still coming my way. Tomorrow will be our election day.I hope we are not as involve as what we are now. But I think tha'll never happen. You see, my mom is into it...It makes our life too public and I hate all the dillemas and intrigues behind it but my mom seemed to take it seriously maybe because she was born to be into it. Geez...If you'd just see how politics makes the people in my place crazy...tsk,tsk,tsk...It quite dirty you know.There are monies involved,a lot of dirty strategies. The problem is that great ideals doesnt matter and will never be realize if you will not induced to a strategy you may call dirty but can be your ace to win. That is why even great statesmen have to do some dishonesty for some good reasons and ideals that needed to be realized. God bless my place.

Comments

Life is Unpredictable

2007-10-22T08:45:55+02:00

I am trembling out of anger right now. I was just antagonized by someone while processing a hospital bill.To hell with those bitches. You know whats wrong with some air-haded people? Its when they know that they can easily kick someone's ass without being butted in return they will never histate to do it. Bad thing because they have crossed my way. I may look naive but hey! I know my rights...thats what my education is intended for. Anyways, I'm just glad things at home had turned good already. Life is inded unpredictable!I almost die last friday when I heard my mom met an accident. I never imagined myself dealing with that situation. Good thing that I know how to calm down. Her head was hit and got lacerations in her upper lip. Damn i was so freakily-scarry to think what will happen. The doctor cleared her lab tests but she has to undergo minor operation. It maybe a minor operation but damn scarry also! Her operation hours was the longest hours in my life...I cant even stand outside the OR so I went to a nearby bar and calm myself. some were staring at me, maybe because it is so unusual in our place to see a chick alone in a bar. God is so great because my mom is starting to look well and she fells better already. ( She's so worried about How she'd look with the scars, but I told her she'd still look beautiful) WoooH!

Comments

Grrrr....

2007-10-17T12:16:48+02:00

A lot of things had been going on lately that droven me crazy.I really dont understand why there are some people who cant be corrected because they are just simply arrogant to nod. They think of themselves as some people who knows everything.Its useless to defend yourself against what they say or do because they wont hear you out no matter how realistic the things that you are saying could be. Worst is that they'll even tag you as a threat to them just because you said the things in your mind.

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mabaysay

2007-09-26T12:23:14+02:00

Comments

haaaaaay!

2007-09-07T08:21:28+02:00

Dear Blog,
Things are quite exhausting at work. Ive got an incoming evaluation and i'm too frantic to meet the deadline and the requirements. Duh! How I wish I'm in a white sand beach enjoying the cool breeze instead of facing all this tiring stuffs. How I wish things will turn out fine because I really invested a lot of long hours working for this whole evaluation thing.

Comments

Fatal Room

2007-08-27T11:56:53+02:00

Behind the world of innocence,
Lies a gruesome room of fatal sins.
Silent cries and screams live in it,
Forlorn seeds died inside it.

The lame room tells stories
Of fears, weakness and obloquies.
Darkness had been a running stream
Beneath its walls of grief.

The rooms door smiles widely,
To every visitors that chooses to lie
In the bed of crucifying life,
In the weakening world of frights.

And there it goes…
Beneath the cold and horrifying room,
A throbbing sonnet plays,
as fanged forceps rips young souls.

The heaven cried and will always sob.
For every prodigy who passed the fatal room,
For every life that was washed in blood,
For every crumpled feet and hands.

The heaven pleaded so hardly
But some just played deaf and acted blindly.
And there it goes a lonesome elegy was written
On how abominated angles was denied by a requiem,
Instead was thrown in a box of murdered dams.

Comments

I'm gettin old...

2007-08-27T11:29:06+02:00

Hi there blog!!!I just celebrated my birthday today...Geez my age is adding up...well, one thing that I really must thank is that I was given another year to live in this world. There was no celebration...My whole day was just odinary. Its just so happend that its also a holiday since my country is clebrating ou NATIONAL Heroes DAY. I spent my whole day watching Close to Home series. I love it so much. It maks me want to pursue my dream of bcoming a lawyer, prosecutor maybe.I rarely celebrate my birthday. The last time I celebrated it was really wild. I got drunk in a bar with a bottle of tiquila and I danced the nignt out. Good thing my fiends took me to my dorm but things didnt go so well on the way because I STUMBLED and got buises all over my fac. DAMN! I was scared my face will not be the same as before. I coudnt look myself in a mirror for 2 weeks but amidst of what happened I didnt reget any. Its on experience that left me warning of not getting much alcohol above my tolerance.

Comments

Dialogue Invitation from Mr. Politician

2007-08-25T11:47:01+02:00

I never loved politics. It makes me nuts. All the countless fool politicians who carelessly play the lives of the people in their hands really make me mad and sick.
And today another Mr. Great Politician just made my whole day crazy!!! How? It all started from a Dialogue Invitation for me and some officials from our place, but everything was just a stupid show off of how he can make the people follows like a mad-salivating dog. There was no dialogue after all. They just gathered bunch of people and tempted them for abysmal lunch and a piece of rotten apple. I even had a bad way in going to that so called” dialogue” because the bus that we were riding was covered with smoke from a burning wire and everyone panicked. It was a terrible thing. I even slid off myself from the small bus window just to be saved. It was really terrible. Thanks to Mr. Politician! I was really thinking that’s the time I could raise my queries on the absence of our Great Mr. Politician after winning the election but everything ended with a great disgust. Somehow it made me realize that the more we trust and follow these fools the more that they will laugh on us and play our lives like a heck- worthless thing. But I can’t control the minds of the people in my place. Although it is blatant that some of our leaders just want things done for them, they keep on pretending and act blindly. I am not saying that our leaders all sucks, we still have our noble Statesmen. It’s just too sad that some people are not that vigilant in selecting leaders that’s why some ghastly leaders still get elected.

Comments

Another Great Day...

2007-08-22T11:27:06+02:00

This week had been so stressful... So many things had beaten every little cells in my mind.But atleast this day had been so great.God has been so great after all. All the morass I was into had finally cleared out.And everything that happened left me one great realization. We always complain on things. We are easily ireked even on little rain,a long queque, long waitig, etc.We sometimes forget to be patient and wait... Patience is very important on how we deal on things. Without this we will never be able to think well and decide. Sometimes because of too abrasiveness we tend to choose the wrong thing. So before you loose your temper, try to breathe,think, be PATIENT.Perhaps if I have been too coarse on my choices, I would have never surpass this weak with a great remarks of " Another Great Day!" .

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