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Depth and Breadth of a Melancholic Heart

Many have known her not because she is a good catch or she can do anything perfectly but for the reason that she’s something more like a living stone hardened through time. People tend to wonder how can someone be this rough and alone. They think of her as a book to be read and a potential to be added in their collection placed in their shelves, as if they have understood the stories behind. But they know nothing about her. No one has ever did.

She is staring at the photographs again with a blank mind like those days that she is thoroughly watching how people come and go. She is wondering on every corner in her memory, asking herself, “When did the last time you feel whole?” She slowly drop the thoughts that reminisced for decades now for she will never get the chance to take a reasonable response. Sometimes, she loves to think that she is getting better each day being stagnant without love, but even how much she insists, she cannot. She often imagine the time when someone will come along and take the risk. She still long for the feeling of the way someone will see her as beautiful as the shinning sun. Especially, to experience those times when he will look at her with the truth in the eyes expressing that she’s the only one who can take every first and last beat of his heart. Someone who thinks that she is the only asthenia of his stronghold.

Having more of aversion, inadvertently, she is starting to decipher once more of what went wrong.  She started to picture out those old good memories as something to save, perhaps, she is thinking that she can have the remnants together with those people who wear the same faces. But the fear of being abandoned and forgotten have not left her side, to satisfy her anxiety, she exhausts herself on making people delightful in any ways on her account by providing them every single and little thing she can offer for she believes that sky is the limit if you love someone. She does things for them to have reasons to keep her not knowing that she was losing her own self too. Apparently, love is ineffable but it isn’t just enough to make them stay. People get tired of cyclical person like her and yes, she can’t prevent detachments. It is still inexplicable to her how making people happy turns into a quicksand.

All she wanted is to be loved and to avoid temporary people but she keep on losing in this maze of facade which dances from time to time, unable to see the genuine and ersatz ones. Maybe, she desperately want people to have her in their lives that even how hard it gets, she tries to pave the way of comfort and reliance for them to need her, for them to love her. She’s wrong. She knew it all along that she’s blinded by these self-created fallacies about love. Nostalgically, all the denied bits of emotion are coming back, there is a flash of unrequited times; the laughter she shared, the energy she caused, the time she wasted, all of those with the people who do not see her as valuable as they are to her. The odd and unfavorable memories rip itself in to a buried part of the story of a quiet pavement where she can only hear silent screams at the dark corner of it but the one who owns it has this bare face the same as hers. The abhorrence of life starts to get in to the empty holes in her bare skin striking directly to the dreadful gut of her own. She must admit that she is the masked, happy-faced, peppy and garrulous person but authentically, a melodramatic, pathetic and easily-attached one and yes, she cannot get rid of the fact that she is replaceable. Maybe that is why people will just see her, laugh with her, stay a bit longer, give her hopes that she can fix her own self till they discover awful things along the way and rely on her only to find that she is the typical person who is alright and who deserves to be alone and then poof! People will leave her like a finished test in the end of a semester and like a cold coffee in a rainy morning. She cannot hark back to the time when she can still build a strong foundation within. She does not have luxury of time to change nor to repel the misfortunes of life and surely, she will not have the chance to make myself believe that someday, in another version of reality, someone will choose to love and to stay with her till the end of a thousand repeated lifetime. For her, love, perhaps, is not destined to linger.

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Elsewhere

Rummaging reasons in this ferocious world,

Never been promised to be heard nor answered.

Inevitable things happened.

Some are destined to meet

But meant to split.

To live a life with so many separations

Is to love both tragedy and desolation.

To love is to be alive.

But unfortunately,

Living comes with dying.

We may find love in dew,

In the plain aspens under the moonlight,

In the eyes that witness aurora,

In the smiles of unknown souls,

In the voice of the likely buried euphoria,

Love may be at anywhere, in anyone, at any time.

Like how Pyramus and Thisbe own the signs,

Their love at the wrong line,

In the chink of the wall,

Inadvertently awful & meant for the fall.

That’s how magic ripped itself into being tragic.

Yes, maybe love is nothing,

But two arms grasping and holding you tight

Until death loosen the tie

Of which love tried to bind.

But how far would you chase love?

How long would you find the lost meaning of life?

Pyramus and Thisbe,

Even if they’d be gone forever.

The love they’ve had,

Remained,

And continued,

Elsewhere..

My Blog

Bakit ang hirap magmahal ng babaeng INDEPENDENT?

                   Sa mundong binubuo ng napakaraming bagay na hindi kayang maipaliwanag ng mga salita ay nariyan ang pagkakaiba iba ng mga hamon at pamamaraan upang maipahiwatig ang pagmamahal sa sinisinta. Ngunit paano nga ba magmahal ng taong Independent? o yung taong nasanay at kayang mabuhay ng hindi nangangailangan ng tulong ng ninuman?

                      Kapag napili mong sumubok na magmahal ng taong sa ilang taon ay naatim o magpahanggang ngayon ay naaatim na tumayo sa sariling mga paa, asahan mong makakaranas ka ng “migraine” at pawang sakit sa pusong walang lunas. Narito ang iilan sa mga dahilan kung bakit ang hirap magmahal ng mga babaeng independent:

Nakaka “intimidate”. Heto yung suliranin ng karamihan sapagkat hindi naman kasi maitatago yung nakasanayang anyo or yung tinatawag na “Aura”; simula sa tindig, tono at laman ng pananalita o maging ang pananaw sa mga bagay bagay na parang nakakapanibagong marinig mula sa isang babae. Ang nasabing pakiramdam na ‘intimidation’ sa Ingles ay hindi agad agad mapapahupa kung hindi ka maglalaan ng sapat na oras upang kilalanin ang mga babaeng tulad nila- iba sa nakasanayan.

Marami silang baong bala. Iwaksi mo ang pananaw na napakadali lang nilang kunin o angkinin. Hindi sila yung kakagat agad sa inihanda mong paing. Simula pa lang ng mga pagpaparamdam ay mabilis nilang nahuhulaan ang mga pa unang indikasyon. Gaya ng lalapit lapit kunwari para makikipagkaibigan, tapos tyetiempo ng magandang pagkakataon para makakuha ng impormasyon, hihingi ng numero, itetext, iaadd sa social media tapos magchachat o kaya naman sisimple ng mga patamang biro o ika nga nila ay “Ang Alamat ng Jamming”, kaya naman kahit hindi ka pa nagsisimula ay pawang pinipigilan o tinatapos na nila bago pa mahuli ang lahat. Matalino ang karamihan sa kanila kaya mag ingat ka!

Napakahirap nilang basahin. Kung ihahambing mo sa isang aklat o kaya magasin, sila yung nagtataglay ng napakaraming “scientific terminologies” o laman na hindi mo kayang maintindihan dahil sa lalim ng pinagkukuhanan. Hindi sila yung babaeng nakasanayan na marupok. Huwag na huwag mong asahan na ang bawat pagpapahiwatig ay agaran nilang bibigyan ng panahon at atensyon dahil para sa kanila, may ibang bagay silang mas mahalaga at mas dapat pagtuonan ng pansin kaysa sa iyo. Masakit yung puntong iyon kasi totoo. Oo, makakaranas ka rin ng hindi mabilang na pagbabalewala dahil nga magkaiba ang kanilang pagtanggap sa inaasahan mong maging resulta ng mga kakaunting “the moves” o pamamaraan. Napakahirap ring sabihin or basahin kung kalian sila galit, masaya o kaya ay may ipinahihiwatig na palang kambal na kahulugan.

Nasanay silang MAG-ISA! Eto yung mahirap tibagin talaga! Huwag mong iisipin na agaran silang dedepende sa iyo gaya ng inaasahan ng mga lalaki. Nairaos nila ang bawat araw sa ilang taon ng wala ka sa tabi nila o ng walang tulong na nangagaling sa isang kabiyak o kasintahan. Kahit sabik sila sa pagmamahal o pagkalinga, may mga babaeng hindi mo mapipilit na basta nalang ipagkatiwala ang sariling kabutihan sa iyo kaya alagaan mo yung ego mo kasi unti unti yang madudurog sa paglipas ng panahon, yun eh kapag hinayaan mo.

                 Sa isang banda, ang mga nasabing komplikadong paglalarawan ng mga babaeng independent ay pawang isang paraan hindi upang hikayatin ka na sumuko na lamang sa kanila ngunit upang mas lalo mo pang patunayan na karapat-dapat kang mahalin. Isang bagay lang naman ang nais nila o maging ng kahit sinong babae na makita at maramdaman – eto yung consistency at pagiging dalisay at totoo ng pagmamahal mo sa isang tao. Dahil kapag pinili nilang sumugal sa iyo, para na ring pinili nila na muling harapin ang sariling pangamba na maiwan at mapalitan, para na ring sumusunod sila sa agos na walang katiyakan ang patutunguhan, na sa wakas ay napagtanto na ng kalooban na kailangan nila ng tao upang maging sandalan. Kapag napili nilang muling buksan ang puso, ibubuhos nila ang lahat ng walang pag aalinlangan na tila ba napawi ang mga taon ng matagal na paghihintay. Mamahalin ka na pawang hindi natatakot na mawasak at masaktan. Turuan mo silang mabuhay at humakbang muli. Kunin mo sila sa mga bisig ng pag-iisa at pangamba. Patunayan mong karapat-dapat ka!

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Dead person had Lived

 

On the plain black circles under her eyes;

 Mirror the quiet hallways,

Pavements left ill-natured,

Home of brilliant debacles-  Full of unwanted souls.

It’s more of a cemetery living in it.

The tenderness of sorrow and grief; she resists.

Unknowingly, it succeed,

Euphoria turned into ashes.

Thoughts began to rust.

She looked all the same,

but wanted to burst her heart out

She wanted to live.

No.

She wanted to feel alive.

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Welcome to the Club!

I look into the same face everyday,

Nothing is new,

Nothing is the same too,

But I have always love the way it appears.

Every time I am into it,

It is like, I am seeing my new endeavors

Which I am very much willing to take.

It feels like, I am witnessing the wonders

of the world.

You are exceptional but picky.

You are lethal but sweet.

You are strong but needy.

You are the word that resembles

the Truth…

This is it!

Welcome to the club

Of being in love!

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You could have been…

Immeasurable depth of emotions might be lethal for people.

Some are too shallow to understand,

Others won’t even bother to let you land,

There are a lot of things inside me,

That I, myself, would like to be free.

People always have this in mind-

It is indispensable to look strong,

But am I?

No.

I am the dismantled I-could-have-beens.

I am the unexpected opposite of what I look and do.

I am the fruit of life deprivations.

I am no good for reviviscence.

Yes!

Faces don’t always reciprocate the heavy hearts

nor the flourished ones.

It is, indeed, the corroded facts of my own.

You know, people could have been more attached,

‘Coz I always have myself to be the one who does,

Instead of showing the neglectful actions,

You could have been more welcoming,

You could have been more rescuing,

People, you could have been the haven for the unrequited.

You could have been the arm that embraces the failed one.

You could have reached those who’s trying to leave,

You could have, at least, cradled someone’s unfathomable grief.

You could have been more persistent to the deteriorating one…

These people around me could help,

But again, they aren’t always the one who will.

You could have saved me.
01/29/17