Emotions

SHE SAYS...

My first thought in the morning,
my last thought at night
The reason for my radiance,
the reason for my might
My only happiness,
the only thing that's true
Is the fact that nothing could ever beat
you loving me loving you

02/22/08 (before going to bed) [MiX]

HE SAYS...

The first sight of my eyes,
the last words before my slumber,
My only reason for living,
my reason to be a lover
My biggest thing yet
Happiness without regret
The fact that nothing was ever more true
that day when my lips said that I love you

02/23/08 (waking moment) [DiX]


--thoughts conjured by sleepyheads.--

Alone in a Sea of Freaks

I had an, overall, a great yet tiring March 15th. The highlight of that day was the Kamikazee concert scheduled that night at MTS, at 8pm. I was there at aroung 6:30. Yes, I was that excited. I was early, but since I was to be alone that night, I didn't claim a place closest to the stage (Dammit). Kamikazee came out at 11pm or so. MOR DJ's and these other 2 bands made us so bored and agitated somehow. We wanted Kamikazee and not those stupid games from their sponsors and those bands like Moluccas* and Isla Era*! Moluccas was such a loseriffic band. There they were, rocking on stage, and us, the audience, just stared. No headbangs, no screaming, no mosh pit effects. L-D

During Isla Era's performance, some guys stirred up a commotion, pushing here and there. Well, I was alone, right? How could I actually muster up enough confidence to push back with the same intensity? Besides, the girl who i ended up enjoying the concert with wasn't much of a party person. She was some girl who lived just around the area, near Ateneo who originally came from North Cotabato and now currently lives with her aunt.
Anyway, so even before Kamikazee went onstage, two incidents of mosh pit trouble already happened. Ugh. I was forced to leave my spot which was close to the stage since all the commotion was either infront of me or behind me. Hell, we already fell on top of each other! Fucking Lagos. So, we went to the back. I smelled cigarette smoke. Great, two girls smoking close to me and some emo lagos decked in black sitting on the floor, some also smoking. Great, I was already sweaty, sticky, and smelly (read: lago ang mga nakasurround sayo at lahat kayo ay pawis na pawis na. Dagdagan mo pa ng amoy ng yosi). I wanted to faint due to the stench around me. But, I held on. It was already past 11. I have been standing for more than 3 hours. I didn't have dinner, just heavy afternoon snacks and an Oreo Larcepuccino Grande-sized that night. Then I saw Jomal on stage. Jomal! Jomal Linao! I screamed his name right then and there. The guys infront of me, stared at me. Hell, they were all waiting for Jay Contreras. Heck, sure, I lurv Jay, but Jomal is soo cute!ü

First Song: Chiksilog. Second Song: Seksi Seksi. People we're jumping up and down during their performance. So caught-up in the moment, there I was singing, jumping, practically doing what every fan would do. It was only after Seksi Seksi that I realized that I was so sweaty, and that I was the only girl in the area who was jumping. The girl I was with didn't jump or even sing. Heck, I should have stayed in front. I realized it was embarrasing in my part to be the only girl who jumped and rocked along with those (ugh) lagos. Hell, Kamikazee just gave roughly the same performance during the Oktebeerfest and free concert that night. Same songs, same punchlines, same mockery (Hale - The Day You Said Goodnight). But still, I wasn't in the mosh pit last time. So, that's it. I just wanted to see them again, only this time, I wanted to jump and go crazy. Toink. And so, I watched Kamikazee alone. It wasn't scary since no one was perverted enough to do anything. Although, a bunch of guys behind me had this flashlight which flashes a picture of a naked girl. Other stuff happened but I won't type them here. Minor stuff.ü

It was a nice to experience something like that after 5 years (free PNE concert @ SM). But concerts aren't that fun unless you go and watch it with a friend. But, heck, it was still fun. Sana may next time ulit.

Note to self: bring a face mask or perfume. LOL. I swear, the stench can get pretty fatal.

*not sure about the spelling of the names of those bands.

Nothing Lasts Forever

I sit here, reflecting, reminiscing, remembering yesterday, every bit of what has been. A while ago, when everyone was inside the chapel, I couldn't help but look around and think just how much I would miss seeing all those faces. Graduation is just a few weeks away and us going our separate ways is inevitable. I couldn't help but think of all the memories each unique character within that room gave me. I sit here and remember every moment that meant so much to me... and it hit me...

When we leave these halls and take one last look at those old brick walls, I'll miss a lot...

I'll miss waiting up for my lunchmates while they dance "Gimme More", "Candyman", or Boogie...
... food overloads during Valentine lunches...
... jamming sessions in classrooms and hallways...
... loud music from the player accompanied by screaming voices...
... sneaking in the Chem lab for some food samples from Food Chem students...
... stargazing or staying up till dawn during Sci-camps...
... lazing around just about anywhere when we get bored...
... walking along every path available when lazing around gets boring...

There would be no more Foundation Day practices in the ABD...
... no more cheerdance practices at Tara's...
... no more play practices at Lian's...
... no more BAPS during afternoons...
... no more waiting up for your turn at the pingpong table (even if all you could ever get is a quick 5-minute game against the good ones)
... no more seeing people sleeping or lying down on the classroom floor...
... no more people eating their breakfast or taking their coffee in their seats...
... no more "Happy Birthdays " in the canteen...
... no more coed locker-room moments in the classroom before PE...
... no more amaoness and immaturity with batchmates...

College would be a totally different world. It would be less secure, and more challenging, more complicated. I would definitely miss high school. I would definitely miss this batch. When I think back and recall the bittersweet moments, I'm glad I entered Pisay. I'm glad I belong to this batch of 91 rather than a batch of thousands. Four years of familiar faces, four years of constant change, four years of issues and bonds...

I love you, Batch 2k8.

Mother

It was the middle of the summer and I was lazily stretching myself on a white hammock which hanged between two palm trees. The palm leaves swayed back and forth, flirting with the gentle sea breeze. I was halfway-finished with the book I was currently reading that moment. I felt like I’ve been lying there under the trees’ shade for quite some time now and yet boredom still did not hit me.

The waves crashed on the shore, disturbing the shells and sand. The water was slowly pulling them together with it as it retreats back to the sea after hitting the shoreline. Nothing else can be heard other than the waves and breeze. The beach emanated peace and I never wanted to leave. Ever.

I sat up and saw a man was approaching me, carrying a tall glass of fruit shake, topped with a tiny umbrella. It was a strawberry shake, my favorite. I lowered my sunglasses and gave him a smile to thank him as he handed me the drink. He smiled back and, oh, did he have a cute smile. He just stood there, smiling as I took a sip of the shake. I could tell that he wanted to say something to me and I was sitting there, sitting my shake in anticipation. He was just about to utter a word when suddenly someone called out my name.

“Maria!” It was a shrill voice from a distance. “Maria, where are you?”

In a flash, the guy, the hammock, and the beach vanished before my eyes and I found myself in a small dim room, atop an unmade bed with an electric fan directed at me. The door suddenly swung open and I saw my mother standing outside, sweating and obviously ready to burst.

“You’re hiding up here again? Don’t you have anything else to do?” She took a look around my room and there it all began. “How could you live in such a filthy place? Start cleaning up! Start fixing your bed.”

I stood up and started to arrange my pillows. I didn’t say a word as I did what I was told. But she didn’t stop talking. She went on telling me that I had to clean the area downstairs since she still had to do some kitchen duty. Her mouth did not stop. I didn’t listen to every word that she said anymore. I didn’t want to anymore. It would have been useless, anyway. Nothing would stop her nagging and answering back would only aggravate things and make her speech longer.

She stomped down the stairs still shouting out complaints and orders. It was always this way everyday. Her voice was the only constant thing that would be heard in the house. She never stopped complaining and nagging. And that made me hate the fact that I lived in the same house as her. I always wanted to be somewhere else, a place without her. That’s the reason for my constant daydreaming. Dreaming was the only way I could feel a bit better in the house.

Sometimes, her complaints would lead to scolding. And as she’s go on verbally attacking me, I’d keep my eyes glued to the floor or somewhere else, yearning to just disappear. I would wish the ground to just swallow me up and muffle her voice. But nothing happens and I just stand there, feeling a lump rise in my throat, tears welling up in my eyes. It hurts and still I don’t talk.

Once, I was busy dusting the living room while mom was outside, cleaning up the garden. She was sweeping the lawn, collecting the dry leaves that fell from the bushes and trees around. A woman in a business suit passed by our house, carrying folders and a huge bag. I saw my mother stop her work and look at her in silence as the woman went on her way. In a split second, I saw something in my mother’s eyes but it just disappeared as she stooped down to continue her work. What I saw was not any of my mother’s usual emotions or expressions. It was neither anger nor stress. It was something totally different.

Mom had such big dreams when she was a teenager. She wanted to be a businesswoman working in one of the country’s prominent and successful companies. She wanted to be rich. My mother was a big dreamer and her dreams were what kept her going. She was beautiful and intelligent and she knew that these characteristics would take her places. But she was also sensitive and soft-hearted. And when she fell in love, she fell hard. Something just came over her and before she knew it, she had said yes to dad’s proposal. She got married at the age of 24 and with that her life took a swerve.

She was very happy with the decision but happiness doesn’t last. She realized that with that “I do,” she left her dreams to rot in the corner. For 17 years, she stayed at home, cleaning, cooking, and taking care of us, her three children. Mellissa is already 14, while Marko is still 10. I am their eldest daughter which meant I was the first physical evidence of mom’s broken dreams. Because of me, she had to leave everything behind. We were too poor to afford a maid and so she had to become a housewife. This, of course, saddened my mother but she had no choice. She had to stay home while dad goes out to earn a living. I would catch her letting out a sigh as dad gives her a peck on the cheek and breezes out the door.

And now I stare at her through the window, heaving a sigh as she goes back collecting the dry leaves. She let go of the life she wanted to have years ago. It was then that I realized that it was regret and jealousy that flashed in her eyes. The nagging and complaining was the fruit of her frustration toward herself. I don’t know if she’ll ever get over it and let go of what was then. It has been 17 years since the day she took the vow that changed her life’s course. Right now, I just have to finish my chores lest she comes in and sees me slacking around. I don’t want to hear her vent out her frustration on me. Not for the nth time today. And as I replace the picture frame on the table, I remind myself of the pact I made with myself. I will not repeat my mother’s mistakes.

The Need, The Want, The Sad Truth

When I'm all alone, a thousand thoughts float in head. A certain sadness just slowly envelopes me and the next thing I know, I'm once again down in the dumps.
Every heart yearns for something. Mine yearns for the simple things, and yet as simple as they can get, they're way beyond my reach.
I just want to feel the warmth of another person's body beside me. His body close enough so that I could snuggle next to him and feel a sense of security. I want to lie with him on the grass or on the roof just to watch the stars. I'll let him hold me close, and I won't care if he wont' say a word. His company is enough. That's as simple as my heart's desire can get. But it's an impossible thing to attain and there's no use hoping for such thing.
It makes me cry to think that there aren't much people who'd be worthy to be part of that dream. Anyone can watch the stars with you. But not just anyone can make you feel truly wanted, loved, and cared for. To others, this mushy request is a joke. That fact crushes my heart, and shatters it to tiny pieces. Fortunately, not to the point where they're beyond repair because this little girl has learned a few lessons along the way when it comes to dreaming and wishing. And she has used what she has learned very well.