find yourself wondering at the end of things

the bad end of goodbye finds you sitting in your corner of the world still wondering what has happened. if there ever was any reason to believe it was love to begin with. or if you were a fool to take it and sit there as the world passed you by. do you tell him then you still love him and those other things he doesn't want to hear anymore. do you still believe in kindness at the end of things?

boogie woogie and elves on half skirts

Coffee. 3^rd cup. Still sleepy. Let’s do the boogie woogie. And turn it all around. Or twirl- if you feel like being a girly girl.

How’s it again?

Boogie woogie. Pointy toes. Pointy hats. Pointy noses. Pointy ears. North. South. East. West.

There’s a point here somewhere.

Somewhere where elves run around in half skirts and full beards.

Now. Not when. Or how. The question begs an answer. Not another question. So I ask, is it someday or soon? You, say, NOW!

And do the boogie woogie and turn things around. Do the woogie boogie and twirl all the girls around.

Around the world. Around the world. What’s that? You ask if it’s true. I say, yes. Yes if it is NOW. Now. Now. Now.

Pick up your skirts little elves. Run and twirl in the wind. Your full beards float after you. Like a cloud of smoke. Like the smokes you’ve quit on a whim. Just like how it begun- on a whim, didn’t it?

Do the boogie woogie. And turn around. Point to yourself. Point to me. Say NOW. The world around. There’s only you and me and the little elves that dance ‘round and ‘round. Boogie woogie. Oh the coffee! The coffee too!

too giddy

i'm too giddy right now to write anything decent. i don't know but i'm really just like this. when i'm too giddy, i mean. i'm scared maybe i'll just write cheesy stuff that stink worse than blue cheese. which by the way smells like foot- that sweated too much. but still tastes great. the cheese i mean.

taking on the darjeeling dare

mahal,

Until last week, I did not see myself running after that proverbial train. I simply didn’t care. So many have passed me by already and have left me believing people always leave. That there is no forever. Not for me.

Then you came. I’ve started wondering maybe I have been wrong. Maybe I just didn’t understand how this whole thing- this fate, love, commitment mixture works.

I am unsure about catching the train. I have never committed to anyone. Had no one commit to me. I still can’t see my future because my future is full of curbs and blindspots- the way I want it. I avoid the long straight line- of knowing precisely what comes next. Of being too sure. Of finding the one now. Now when I only know two things to do when made to choose: fight or flight.

My friends say I wear my heart on my sleeve. That I put too much of my heart out there. But I have not really given much to anyone. I have never lost myself. I may have loved freely but I have never let anyone pierce through me so much so that I would fear losing out on things while I go about my ways- of not having kids (because will I really find a man who wouldn’t want to have a child in his likeness?); of dying (what kind of person in love would wish misery on someone who has his life latched unto hers?); of being whimsical (who wouldn’t want consistency in a relationship?). I am a slave to both my ego and id. Even with you now, I am still me.

But unlike you, I am not afraid of the what ifs. What if we grow too comfortable? What if we run out of interesting things to say to each other. What if this is just mere attraction – of finding a kindred soul at this turn in our lives. What if I’m not the one. What if there’s no such thing as the ‘one’. What if there’s no such thing as the ‘one’ for me or you.

I am taking you on your condition: to speak up when this thing gets too much to handle or falls below expectations.

I need to believe first that the train is worth catching.

Because I’m running without any baggage. And I see you still have yours. But like I told you. As long as you hold my hand, I won’t let go.

We can catch the train or we can stop running after it. Plop down on the grass and enjoy the view of the here and the now. and not care if it takes us a hundred years forever wondering what comes next.

Because the future doesn’t matter to me as much as the hand that holds mine now.

I told you I am not simple. I am not low maintenance. I want more from life. I need to feel that you are drowning in me. Overwhelmed by me. Consumed by me. I just can’t have it otherwise.

Your turn. Fight or flight?

everything fades

i tell them not to worry. everything fades with me.

it comes faster than you think. ask mellon. ask ian. ask pan. ask eli. ask jig. ask moi. ask savvy. ask jan. ask troy.

only one says it's taking forever. and even him can't keep me.

we are only here for a moment.

and even time can't have me.

i'm counting down the days till you are here. i'm counting down the days till i fade for you.

morning after

i woke up this morning. late again for work. i woke an hour and a half past the time i'm supposed to be already hunched over my laptop, done with checking the email, and already half-way through a new FAQ.

i woke up with a hollow feeling in my chest, as if my lungs got filled up with too much air and the cavities were screaming from overstretch. air that was dead. air that was starting to balloon my brain.

my eyelids were heavy- weak against the morning sun bursting from the tiny open window of my bedroom. i crawled under the comforter although it was damn warm. i crawled as if i was crawling into the dark hole in the ground.

i didn't want to face today. this present where nothing we talked about last night is real. today, we go back to being dumb dumbs.

365 days

remember how it was last year? three candles atop the chocolate cake. your eyes smiling. amused. surprised. i lighted those candles. afterwards we went down for coffee and smokes. it was only days ago that i saw bismuth's mix- oct 2007 on my desk. a song about a 400-horsepower black mustang exploding on the highway like a slug from a .45

with or without you. it was great this year. the trick or treat fiesta of sorts. remember that kid in a tigger suit? how we thought it would be cooler if he was dressed up like kurt cobain in that mtv unplugged session? did the marks of the face paint go away? the dragon on your forehead.

the other day, Wil wondered about you. commenting that his PSP is already a year older too because he got at this time of the year last year, he remembered. you know how he is. he can copy voices. so he imitated you borrowing the console and getting caught by her while you were deep into the game.

remember the short girl you had more than 2 bottles of beer with? that night you drank cerveza negra because that was what i was drinking someplace else. she misses you too. we had fun before. we were like kids in college running about this place. not trying to fit in at all. we were carving our own niche with our own clique.

oh, i forgot. you'd be sad to know they shut down hot and saucy. and that burger place upstairs. all that's left of our hangout is coffee cal. amusing how much things change for the ones left behind.

so how was yesterday? was there cake?