A slow breaking and mending

A delayed bit of introspection

2010-04-10T07:35:00.001-07:00

Let's not look back on the past, any longer than we have to. I barely recognize the girl who wore my skin (albeit, much tighter) when we retrace her steps. I can see nothing of her in myself, other than my features. I can feel nothing of her in my systems, other than her heartbeat. She and I share nothing but DNA. She does not exist, in the dimension I move freely in. I do not know her

..though I admit, I wish I still had her waist.

Snap back

2009-11-17T06:33:00.001-08:00

~~If I had any sense at all, it would be so much easier to make the clear-cut choice.~~

~~It's funny how we all have very little sense at all when we give in and choose to fall.~~

I am a rational being, gahdemmit.

Overanalyzing's for wimps

2009-11-16T07:00:00.000-08:00

I could want you for all the wrong reasons, but the bottom line is that I want you, and people who know me well enough, know that that doesn't happen too often.

Magulo, malikot

2009-11-14T15:47:00.000-08:00

So here's what goes on inside my head, just so we clear all misconceptions about it being full of schedules and plans. Here's a peek into that node of humanity and vulnerability I try so hard to deny, just so that I don't succumb to the fact that I am ten..twenty..a million, times weaker than the average sap.

Maybe you've seen me flash a smile and let it pass for an answer, maybe you've gotten that too often and gotten sick of the mystery I cling to. Maybe you've figured out by now, that no straight-shot answer feels safe enough to be spoken, without a smirk or shrugged shoulders. I am too far beneath the capability to answer with conviction, for fear of crucifixion. I am a million times weaker than the average sap, because I am the above-average wimp.

I am the girl who will turn red at every comeback that hits the mark and every move that makes me wonder. I'm the kid who'll stutter at personal inquiries and admissions. I'm the fool who can't come out and confess, to save her sanity. I'm the wallflower, with one foot out the door before you tell me it's time to go. I drag my neglected high school heart around on a leash on the rare occasion that I can't keep it under lock and key.

My timing (if you can call it that), is the sloppiest shit. Every time I FINALLY decide to admit, every damn time I start to fight the fear to commit, I'm left high and dry, with the need to get hit.

To be or not to be!

2009-11-10T07:35:00.000-08:00

If my thoughts were to pile up past my silly little brain -past my skull and scalp and perpetually-tousled hair; spilling back onto the screen, floating through cyberspace, would your all-assuming, unknowing eyes judge me the way I keep telling myself they're inclined to?

Thank you, ljsecret

2009-09-12T04:53:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, a picture (whether it's your own, or a total stranger's)

really is worth a thousand words.

Now that that's been said and done, time to be relatively productive

so the last 4 hours of this day save it from being a complete bust.

Not fishing

2009-08-30T21:38:00.000-07:00

All I can say is why me. What could I have possibly done, or been, to deserve any of this? Based on past experiences, I'm really not much more than the next person. Oftentimes, I'm significantly less than many of the amazing people I know. I'm not the kind of performer who can make people laugh without saying more than two words. I'm not the girl who'll turn heads and break necks upon entering a room. I mess my lines up, I stand there dazed and speechless til I'm finally saved by the bell. I've always got messed-up makeup and tousled hair and I look like shitcakes in pictures I'd much rather take than be in. I am, in my own opinion, an occassional waste of time and effort..and the amount of time you've chosen to waste on me, always leaves me floored and grinning like an idiot. All I want to do, really, is try and prove to myself that I deserve the damn attention.

Eighteendom

2009-08-15T15:16:00.000-07:00

When they say the heart of life is good, they mean that despite evil teachers and pop quizzes, there will always be Krispy Kremes and happy pictures. They mean that regardless of whether you UNOed a plate or shotgunned an esquisse, there will be stolen glances and gazes that make you blush whenever you catch them mid-stare. People don't say it outright, but basically, they're out to let you know that no matter how bleak the atmosphere or how deafening the silence may seem, there is a light out there -there are a million lights waiting to blind you and throw you right off guard but in the most amazing ways.

Life. It doesn't always go according to plan, but when you plan for things to remain dull and uneventful, you can usually count on life to spring a couple of surprises. Expect nothing, and soak in the unexpected :)

Oh and hey hey by the way, you make my day every so often. It doesn't take much to get me hit, a bottle or so will do. It doesn't take much to secure a smile, especially when it's you. Nobody, nobody, but..who? I'm not telling :)

Note to self: tumataba ka, masyado ka nang masaya :P Ugh I totally get why people equate fatness to being happy now! TOO MUCH CELEBRATING hahaha!

At ease

2009-08-09T06:43:00.000-07:00

It's just a day it's just another day it's just like every other day it's just like any other day it's just a birthday it's just an 18th birthday it's just a day commemorating your 18th year of life it's just another day you're alive it's just you it's just another day.

Counting those chickens

2009-08-08T23:28:00.000-07:00

Give me something to write about, something a little more concrete than these possibilities. I know I'm being impatient, but I'm notorious for my assumptions anyway.

So tell me, are you going to be another one of those misconstrued meanings, or are you going to prove me right, for once?

This could be so damn easy and still so totally awesome.

On another note: the skinny girls always win. I want to start winning.

You're all talk

2009-08-06T08:29:00.001-07:00

I'm telling you now, this act we put up won't be nearly enough to sustain that nostalgic crutch we've come to lean on, if you don't get your rear in gear. There are countless possibilities to lose me to, and they're increasing exponentially as this World of mine expands. You have no idea. Trust me.

This took a while

2009-08-05T03:16:00.000-07:00

After all the time that's passed and all my attempts to downplay the past, I've come right back to the threshold of those very memories. I'm a little trippy like that, a little swing-back-and-forthy til I rock my own boat into the ocean, like that.

I guess that's one thing I'll always be, regardless of how many layers I peel off and put on, regardless of how many times I decide to reinvent myself. I suppose being that way, actually, is the one reason why I peel off and put on all those damn layers in the first place.

Maybe I'm back here because it finally feels alright to be back. It feels right to be back. I'm not quite so shakey on my hind legs anymore..these trips down memory lane are managable. Though, I still have to work on my bikram yoga balancing-on-one-leg poses. Freaking standing head to knee.

2009-03-21T20:55:00.000-07:00

What's happening?

2009-03-21T03:34:00.001-07:00

Why're things getting so strange, so suddenly,

and why am I so surprised

when the truth is

I saw this all coming

the minute I decided to start keeping my mouth shut?

You talk but nobody hears you,

you reach out but nobody grabs hold.

You're left hanging so often

that the fear is paralyzing.

I guess I just figured that the only surefire way to stop failing

was to stop trying.

I guess I need to learn how to love unconditionally. I guess I'm scared.

I hope I'm not too late.

Or too lost.

I sort of feel like I am.

Pending

2009-03-11T05:02:00.000-07:00

So many of us are just waiting to pounce on those second chances. Those "should've been"s and ones that got away. Sometimes it really is lovelier the second time around. More often than not, it's worth the wait.

For those who've been blessed with more than we expected, congratulations! -and thank you for giving the rest of us another ounce of hope..hope that we just might be next on the list :)

We're related not by blood, but by life :)

2009-03-07T18:04:00.000-08:00

To the awesome lady who welcomed me into an equally awesome family,

took care of me,

and did a job even my biological mother would've been proud of:

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOMMY MEL :)
Goodluck with that thesis, we're both going to work our butts off today! :)
-cause I haveta make my mommy proud! :>
Congratulations in advance for "Best Thesis" ;>

Watakwa

2009-03-06T02:27:00.001-08:00

There's still so much I want to say
but these days, time is slipping away.
With all of these Lasts, and "Thank You, Goodbye"s,
like the silly girl I am, I just break down and cry.

It's all way too sentimental
and I know that I look like a fool,
because though this place made me go MENTAL
with the stress and the work and the rules

for some reason I just can't describe,
how I'll miss every voice, every face.
Forty reasons that go beyond rhymes,
forty people I'll never replace.

So no matter how far you go
-and I know we're all going far;
I pray that you will always know
and remember that, wherever you are:

Forty sentimental people like me
who won't care if they sound just like fools
would love to go Home to good old IV-3
and spend everyday with you :)

One day more

2009-03-06T01:34:00.000-08:00

None of it is sinking in, just yet. Well, not fully, at least. It (it, being my natural tendency to be an overly emotional idiot), has been coming and going, in the most erratic waves. All these Lasts have been throwing us up and down.

Damn you, English. Damn you and your awesomeness. Damn you and the way every lesson seemed to bring me that much closer to clarity. Damn you and the bizaare obligation I felt to aim for excellence simply because I genuinely loved the subject, the "Literary high" Mrs. Villalon talked about. Damn those Shakespeare preparations, those obsessive compulsions when it came to assignments, those sleepless nights spent rereading Les Mis and Hamlet and typing up outlines. And damn that sense of fulfillment that didn't even require that "Good job" or top score.

Economics, for living up to what highschool Social Studies lessons have ALWAYS been, for me -the most enriching, most relevant, most attention-grabbing lessons, regardless of whether or not it messed up my lines of 9 in my report card.

Damn you, Math E, for being the most unexplainable contradiction of my highschool life. Damn you for being my greatest source of pain, sadness, inadequacy -but at the same time, a haven full of the weirdest jokes and hearts full of acceptance.

El Fili, for the way I just read and read and reflect on the masterful way you were written, now, after pouring over you for the exams; the way I now regret not reciting in class or reading the assigned kabanatas when I was supposed to! The way I feel the urge to devour every single detail and scrutinize every hidden agenda, social issue, or perfectly concealed bit of humor in Rizal's masterpiece! (Damn you, Shimora Pasela, as well, for contributing to this overwhelming sense of wonder and nationalism!)

Damn you, Physics for the perseverance and hardwork I've learned to feed off. Damn you for those mind-numbing problems that forced me to shake of my senioritis inertia and actually set my brain into motion, and the way that I can't help but randomly apply your concepts to my daily life. Damn the way I keep trying to estimate the most insanely insignificant little examples of work or force or motion!

And, forgive me Lord, but damn you, CLE, for strengthening my Faith with reason. For filling in the blanks, qualifying the terms, and setting the criteria for the actualization of my otherwise mind-boggling desire to find God. For the way you made me realize the limits of my human comprehension, then proceeded to teach me how to overcome them by working with Him.

What is it about highschool that makes us turn schizophrenic; banging on the exits one minute, and clinging on for dear life, the next? They say we're about to be flung into the Real World..but for what it's worth, this was all pretty damn Real, to me.

There are whole classrooms full of people I will never see, collectively, again. There is a whole classroom that will never be the same, again -a whole building, a whole campus! There are hallways, cafeterias, benches, gymnasiums and courtyards that will never echo our laughter and tears and "Like, omg"s, ever again.

- but there are 163 hearts and minds and memories (once all that Physics data has been deleted!), that will.

And for every life we've touched in one way or another, for every bit of us that might have left an indelible mark, there will be whispers of a legacy we've lived, of a challenge we've issued, and a change we've pioneered.

Overwhelmed

2009-01-17T05:19:00.000-08:00

I barely had three seconds to myself, yesterday. It was a day of rushed breakfasts and twice-as-rushed carrides. It was a day of little kids who cried their adorable snot-nosed faces off, until you sat them on your lap and fed them Chocnut.

There was no time for the news to fully sink in, amidst Pep mixes and dental appointments! Only for steps to be taught and teeth to be checked!

But as soon as I found the silence to look myself in the mirror, I suddenly realized that today, something -everything, was drastically different. My mind struggled to grasp the emotions overflowing beneath my familiar face and well-worn form. It could barely fathom the logical justification of my tear-stained cheeks.

How could my head even begin to understand what my heart could only attempt to explain? These, after all, were a surging sort of emotion that lay in the deepest recesses of my soul -interspersed with memories that had been buried, and thoughts that had banished..but barely forgotten.

My all-too-literate facade searched every nook and cranny of my 17 years' worth of grammar, to find the words. My need for control -for logic to pummel through, strained to rationalize..the moment (for lack of a better word -it seems 17 years are just not enough!)

Now..all the time I'd spent, searching for something -anything, that would make me feel like there wasn't something terribly wrong with me: flings, pitching stats, a better number on the scale, on the tape measure, fair weather friends, friends who were barely even friends when the weather WAS fair; just seems so far behind me that it's a whole other chapter of my life. Another chapter that I can finally write off, and put on the shelf.

For all my insecurities and worthless thoughts of my apprently worthy self, I am finally happy with who I am because of something I've accomplished.. :) My highschool dream actually came true..and right now, I cannot hate myself..not even a little bit, not at all :)

Thank you, Lord. I would have nothing at all, without You.

Last night

2008-12-20T20:16:00.000-08:00

I let myself be a typical highschool senior

damn.

Anxiety, admittedly

2008-12-18T20:31:00.000-08:00

Everything that ever was or would've been

spun into the present and thrown back

into somersaults and stomach flips.

I never knew what went through that head of yours

I might've tried too little to find those locks and keys

Maybe something about not knowing

for any amount of time

scared me more than any form of permanence

Maybe that period of uncertainty brought me right back

I recognized that feeling and it scared me

I understood well the effects and defects of what was

I saw the possible tumult lying in what could be

It was so easy to string together explanations and

half-truths, when everyone was so eager to down my words!

I wonder if they know what's going on in this head of mine

Somehow, I think they've abandoned the search for my locks and keys

But when I have to come face to face with the reality that

no matter how cleverly tucked away and hidden they may be,

once they're found, it's an easy break in;

what then?

-but when I have to see you again, what then?

Poly-fucking-amorous

2008-12-18T20:27:00.000-08:00

Iaminlovewith24freakingpeople

SUPSIPBATIL <3

picture taken by Ella Fortun

Hypocritical retard

2008-12-13T16:02:00.000-08:00

I realize, more and more, that I can't stand not knowing how people feel while I can't stand to let people know how I feel. And that makes me a horrible person.

If I could, I would retreat so far back into fiction and prose and worlds where only one conflict exists per plot sequence -where the third person POV makes everything crystal clear, from intention to action. I'd bury my entire being into page after page of "reality" if I could. I would.

If I stay away, I won't ever have to make mistakes like that ever again..and no one'll have reason to be hurt or disappointed or proven right or wrong..no one, including me. And I won't ever have to be a horrible person.

If I keep quiet, I won't ever have to say all the wrong things that I always think are right..at the time. Time always proves me wrong. It always proves that I am a horrible person. Well, in that sense, time always proves me right.

If I don't let people in, then no one'll have the chance to realize, first hand, that I am a horrible person, ever again.

I think I'm a horrible person. Save yourselves.

Hiatus,

2008-12-10T02:53:00.001-08:00

because it shouldn't feel like this.

This doesn't even cut it

2008-11-28T14:56:00.000-08:00

Based on previous experience, I should be packed up and gone. I shouldn't be spacing out for hours, on end -I shouldn't be spacing out, ever. Based on past delusions..based on person after person, mistake after mistake. I should've been out of words and out of patience and out of your life, ages ago. "Ages", in my world; meaning, "a week."

Based on old rumors, you should have your sights set on someone new. You shouldn't have your arms around me so tightly -you should be on the loose and on the prowl. Based on past prejudice..based on cover up after cover up, lie after lie. You should've run out of motivation and out of promises and out on me, ages ago.

And yet, here I am..whirling away, selecting the most perfect words to say. And there we were; fingers, as always, laced, with your arms around my waist, my forehead against yours right when no one else could've been watching us break all our stupid personal rules.

And since (we're) breaking all the rules, anyway.. :) Haha! :)

The only thing left to figure out is..which one of us is the lion and which is the lamb?

You've got a hold on me

2008-11-15T16:50:00.000-08:00

All those things I thought I knew
about countdowns and limits and deadlines
and the steady ticking of my defense mechanism;
reset..or relinquished.

Either way, you've got a hold on me,
and I think I blame it on how you
(and your oh so creative friends)
make it feel like it'd be perfectly safe
and perfectly perfect
to be solely yours, in that sense.

How exactly do you do
what you do,
to this suddenly-sweet cynic?
- on second thought, don't answer that:
I wouldn't want you
to ruin the surprise.

You've got a hold on me,
and I don't know how else to tell you
that it's above and beyond
your tightened grip when we lace our fingers,
and the steady way everything fades
into background noise
when you slip your arm around my waist.

"As long as it's the good kind of gigil, ah"

2008-11-11T05:17:00.001-08:00

Well it's the kind of gigil where I wish I could be holding your hand, so I'm assuming that's the good kind

Back to reality

2008-11-08T01:55:00.001-08:00

And the countdown begins.

Leap of faith

2008-11-07T14:04:00.000-08:00

The scent of alcohol and good cologne played around with my head all night -as if the spaces between you and I weren't enough to have me completely undone. How is it that some friends know exactly what you want, when you yourself remain very much in denial? How is it that other friends know all this, regardless of their state of mind??

The night was slipping away when you finally decided to take matters into our own hands (and not leave it all up to The Three's instruction). I stuttered and I stammered and I stifled a shiver everytime my voice broke off, mid-sentence. A sober mind is a strange thing in certain circumstances!

Out of fear, perhaps, that you would misconstrue my meaning, all I had courage enough to do was reach out and hope you'd lace your fingers in mine, without my friends' orders. And if that hadn't assured you and everyone else who I'd been keeping in the dark, then I hope you're able to recall those few seconds where my forehead lay squarely on your shoulder, and your arm lay on mine.

Lame as it sounds, I think you made my life a little bit like a highschool musical, last night :)

GG, you're so busted

2008-11-06T01:55:00.000-08:00

I missed you in school today, best bud :)

OH LOOK I CAN LIE, TOO hahahahaha

Don't speak, liar

2008-11-04T23:32:00.000-08:00

Revenge is empty when you're fully aware that all you really want is for everything to be alright. The truth can be so stifling..especially since love, of any sort, is the kind of lie everyone likes to believe in.

I couldn't have picked two more perfect people. Senior year is obviously a joke but who knew that this sorry excuse for friendship would be this week's punchline

Word vomit

2008-11-01T17:40:00.000-07:00

It's been so long since the words have fallen so freely from the top of my head to the pit of my stomach. Too often, the liberty of my broken resolutions have gotten caught in my throat..(yes, little girl, your silly rules are out to choke you now!) I blame it on this insane aspiration to make better sense!..or the rebellion simmering in my typical teenage mind; the one that'd much rather keep its artificially mysterious and mind-boggling repute, intact.

(Note the use of one of the many words for the day that did NOT show up on that Unit Test -BITTER haha!)

After all..

aren't we all a little bit scared to discover that our depth is about as contrived as sad excuses for sandcastles carved out of gravel-laiden sandboxes?

Add to that the impending doom in the very next room that you and I seem to be walking towards, for Faith's sake. In spite of all the love I claim to have for surprises and the like, I've learned one too many times, to keep my Faith solely in the Divine.

You and I..we're as human as blood and flesh can possibly get.

I can't blame you

2008-10-30T16:52:00.000-07:00

How were you supposed to know that I was secretly rooting for you all along? That I wanted, for once, to be proven wrong?

Mumbo jumbo!

2008-10-18T16:42:00.000-07:00

my shoulder. my arm socket. what arm socket? the stride of my leg,

the snap of my hip

(the one I try so hard to perfect)

the sweat. the sound. the swings and the silence. split second silence,

the strike.

There's reason enough for living and breathing and the occassional beating when there is uncertainty in all aspects of my life but this!

Like a satellite

2008-10-18T16:02:00.000-07:00

Who was I trying to kid, with your arm around my waist, your hand on my shoulder, my fingers curled around your wrist. I'd blame the alcohol if it wasn't for my insane sobriety. I'd feign oblivion if my motives weren't so crystal clear.

Denial makes for immense confusion. The truth is simple

..albeit, inconvenient.

Let's call this an Intro

2008-10-09T06:34:00.000-07:00

I tried to bury a girl who I'd known and come to hate in a matter of months. She'd woven her poison into my bones, subtly but surely, over a course of little more than 16 years..but I hacked away at her dubious masterpiece, kicking and flailing, screaming as I pulled on strings.

I never stopped long enough to feel the friction on my skin. Perhaps I was numb.

Perhaps I'd felt hatred beyond my capacity of feeling -so much so, that there was nothing left of that sense, to recognize any other emotion.

I quickly tired of that hatred..I overdosed on every possible experience, hoping to divert my mind's attention..to focus on the background noise..on everything, rather than anything.

I was falling so far behind..so deep into the ratrace.

It felt good to be caught.

It felt good to breathe (fresh air).

It felt good to recognize the love we could feel but never see..the hurt that could kill, but never be communicated.

When will I ever have the time or skill to even begin to describe all this? Hopefully before Les Mis and El Fili and Trig push the memories out of my brain. Hopefully before I get sick of singing I Can.

See ya in a few days

2008-10-01T06:12:00.000-07:00

God knows what or who I'll find, up in nosebleed-territory..I'm honestly a bit scared to find out, myself. I'm honestly a bit scared to find myself.

What we aim for

2008-09-26T18:13:00.000-07:00

The only one brilliant enough to sear my skin and parch my lips has forced me into the shade. Like a fool I look on, squinting, with a hand upon my brow. Like an enigma I've deigned to take at face value, this one's pushed me up against denial and successfully stared me down to my knees.

Regardless of the damned way it seems to fit me into its hours purely out of convenience, like an insignificant after-thought (you cocky little --!), the way I could possibly be but one of its many sources of amusement; I can't seem to settle for (or down, with) any other star.

Explain to me why that is, and I will give you a cookie.

On a lighter note, I think everyone should download Kiss The Girl by Colbie Callait :) Yes, Kiss The Girl from The Little Mermaid! Good hits, good hits :)

Word vomit

2008-09-20T17:43:00.000-07:00

If I could take you in, I'd breathe you in. If you could fill my lungs, I'd take you in like menthol, to clear my head. I do take you in, like menthol, for that sudden sting. Straight up to the system, like a shot up those valves! You're like a goddamn sensation.

Bubble gum pop highschool hits and cherry flavored hormones. So this is you and how you do. I never would've guessed (though everyone else knew)

Draw your own conclusions

2008-09-14T15:58:00.000-07:00

You've grown into a mystery, and I'm (so suddenly) unsure. All I can say for certain is that this hasn't happened before. When I call you a stranger, slowly to myself, I don't mean it in the way that I should. I mean that I don't know you the way that I would if I could. I mean that your name and your face and the way you fit into the subject of "you and I", are questions I can't comprehend. I mean that the answers I wish we could come up with, leave me at my wits' end.

You've grown to become a reason, inching your way into my head..and I'm running out of excuses. I'm running out of rhymes, I'm running out of luck and I'm going insane, trying to make my mind up so I can catch you before I let you run out the door. Because something, some tiny little echo in the back of my head, is telling me that this could be so much more than what I imply.

I can see myself, struggling, so clearly; hiding behind my half meant lines..the lines that I drop so often that I've made quite a mess of emotions. I'd take full responsibility for all this confusion if I could honestly say that you -and the way you are just so you; didn't deserve much more credit than I'll probably ever let you know.

Sneak a peek

2008-09-12T05:43:00.000-07:00

This sudden loss of time and means and words with which to write, has led me to the following realization: I need to need to need to find myself.

And I want to want to want to see you, just because it's been a while, stranger. Or maybe I need to need to need to see you, just because I want to.

Pakipot ba,

2008-08-24T06:04:00.000-07:00

o sigurista?

Fear is a funny thing

Senioritis

2008-08-22T15:28:00.000-07:00

The disease apparently extends to events that have been pumping and pulsing with anticipation. It finds us, with our ancient bones and vodkafied (welcome to my world) bloodstreams, walking aimlessly under the stars or lying on the pavement. It leaves us, with our colored cups and bottled stops, sitting on the steps or locking ourselves into gender-negligible comfort rooms. It is a total waste of sounds and strobe lights. It is what turns a party into another night of drinking and sexual _____ (you tell me).

Weeks like this..weeks like this, are what make me crave and slave over an idea. Weeks like this are what fuel my poorer decisions and hang me upside down, from the insides;
weeks when I have to bury a stranger I shared a room with, for three years;
weeks when my brain finds no motive to function (nooo, long tests never ever work!).

Enter: people like you -people who, just as I suspected, are more potent than alcohol.

What'd I get myself into

2008-08-17T18:40:00.000-07:00

It's not supposed to be like this. I didn't expect you to be so..you.

It's so hard to fight the feeling, when the universe has forseen the fall.

Escapism, escapism!

2008-08-17T06:51:00.001-07:00

That is the game I choose to play; with my secondhand smiles and half-meant lines! I'll pretend not to know the err behind every loosely tucked strand of her or word uttered at half-speed..but you should all know better.

Escapism, escapism! Don't ask me who or what or when unless you know a third of as much as I had to settle for. What with text brigades and family council mouths that run miles and years of alumni, back and forth.

Escapism -it's the world I shrink back into, once the locks come apart and the woodwork refuses to close me off any longer. It's the restlessness and sedation of feeling after feeling after numbing feeling borne into numbing silence and spare grins.

Escapism? Its words couldn't hold me.
Its lies couldn't blur the lines between reality and insanity quite enough for my taste.

Escapism..its mention couldn't overlook the fact that a 40th piece of my heart chamber watched air bubbles and opportunities disappear into a liquid sky

and so I purged and I wailed and I fasted and I wrote, struggling to silence that unease gnawing at my insides.

For all the things I couldn't say, and the answers I couldn't find..what now, what now, what now..

I TRIED to remember what I wrote this morning

2008-07-28T01:46:00.000-07:00

I am suspended motion in a bucket, full of emotion, as the dense insanity finds me hanging, barely there. My arms flail and eyes force open, at every slight commotion. Coco's putty boats sail past my muffled screams without a care. I know nothing of devotion, I've been raised well, by this dead ocean. All I know of is the current running through my lungs and hair. I don't sink but I can't swim -oh, and I'm run by pressure's whim

..but truth be told, these days with you have felt like coming up for air.

I'm an Assumptionista,

2008-07-09T06:08:00.000-07:00

This is where I always bolt. The saddest part is that I could've sworn I was just about to let you get to me. Then again, that's always the case, with me -and you, of all people, should know it.

I assume :P

In excess

2008-07-07T02:29:00.001-07:00

All I know how to do in the silence of my own company, nowadays, is purge. This freakish facade is taking its toll on me. Bit by bit, that smile and extra spring in my step -that twinkle and decibel of my voice; is gnawing away at my overly caffeinated insides.

I swear, my heart chambers are pumping coffee beans and sweeteners. My mind is churning 2Am wakeup calls, laugh lines to end all laugh lines, and all the nonesense my body can't take. My battery pack's in overdrive; working more like 5 to 5.

It's all hit hit hit hits happy hits bad hits good hits hirit hits benta hits slow hits senior hits whutts hit you hits bruises from ball hits lets-get-hit.

Because somebody actually uses my lines :)

2008-06-23T05:51:00.000-07:00

I've never been quite so numb for quite so long. I'm caught in half-speed; between a bottled boat and a coral reef. This is me, floating in and out of his day; that is I, weaving my way through her life.

Life, you and I play a funny game..of bent rules and blurred lines. We've reached an understanding based on secrets and lies: we're experts in that sense -hey, you've got to be good at something.

I did it because..because..

because there was not much else to do

because I could

because..maybe..I was looking for you

but maybe it'll stay beneath the surface just so I can act like I'm above it all.

I hope the conversations suck ass

2008-06-17T05:32:00.000-07:00

I'm so affected it's not even funny.

Hahaha

..okay so maybe it's KINDA funny.

Whyyy

2008-06-12T05:35:00.000-07:00

You are the distance I can't seem to keep; can't seem to see. From my little point on the Earth's surface, to yours, there are no stoplights..only detours. I can't pry myself away from those moments wherein you amuse me..or amaze me -oftentimes, both.

Your smile is dangerous, in that sense

in the sense that I like who I happen to be, when I know you're around;
in the sense that I do what I don't have to and I am where I can't be;
in the sense that one glance seems to ease the hustle and bustle of one day
to the next.

You are the invisible but invincible string keeping my hands tied, eyes wide, to who I used to be..someone the world isn't exactly frantically out searching, for. Someone I'm not too sure I'd be willing to welcome back, with open arms.

It's funny how frightening the effect you (still) have on me, is. It's hilarious that I don't seem to be scared enough to stay away. Quite the contrary.

So maybe I am a little bit jealous and maybe I want you to know; but you shan't because you can't.

Don't be dense :)

2008-06-06T00:48:00.000-07:00

I'm not about emotion,
because I've been there
-been all about emotion;
and I've struggled with the notion
of logic and thin air.
I'm not about emotion,
cause I've been spit out into an ocean
of a million tiny granules
of people who really couldn't care.

And when I'm all about emotion
-you'll have to catch the way I stare;
when those placid eyes and sly half-smiles
denote the mystery of what's there,
then you'll have crossed that empty ocean
and made me forget that stupid notion,
and I'm praying it'll be sometime soon
with someone for whom
I seem to care

quite a bit.

A moment of weakness

2008-05-26T03:29:00.000-07:00

Come Home.

I'm finallyyy

2008-05-25T04:54:00.000-07:00

HOME, SWEET HOME: where the jeepneys photograph better than cable cars and merlions and great big ships; where the character sticks between the grit and grime of ancient tsinelas; where everywhere is a scene and everyone is a little stitch on a beaten battered thread bare old coat! Home, where the run on sentences are perfectly justified by the fact that I've got that ohsofamiliar feeling of my heart riding up my throat!

There's so much more I wish I could say, just to try and give a certain someone that certain feeling..or something a little bit like it, but I'm pacing myself here. Because, despite the fact that I know myself all too well..I'm rooting for you over here :) This is one bet I want to lose..just because it's about time I outgrew this silly little habit. So come on, prove me wrong. Lean in a little nearer, linger a little longer and say a little more. Oh, and keep an eye out for that inside curve.

Team Cook!

2008-05-21T03:19:00.000-07:00

You get me so freaking hormonal! WHY are you so shhhmexyyy David Cook David Cook David Cook HOT SEX and eargasms!! :))

Wasn't much, isn't much

2008-05-21T01:56:00.000-07:00

People like you are held together by an intricate little bond called bullshit. I'd love to give you the benefit of the doubt, but the novelties of trust and second chances have been long worn out in this cynical little mess of apathy and "lessons learned."

It's been years since I last saw the point in walking that stupid little tightrope; I've kept myself intact for a while now and I'd like to keep it that way. Still, I have to admit: a growing part of me was becoming more and more curious. I guess, despite all the so called cynicism, I'm still looking forward to seeing someone get past that two week mark.

Don't you dare get cocky 'til you get lucky.

Urges urges

2008-05-12T01:08:00.000-07:00

I could kiss it and make it all better, over and over and over again, but would I?..and should I? And if I would and should and did..what then, mehn?

This is me

2008-04-29T17:20:00.000-07:00

..trying to work out the way your skin should know me, to come to terms with what this feels like. I know for sure just what it seems like, but I'm telling you now, if I were true, I'd stay a million miles away from you.

It's not even just about that mess..it's a whole mess of messes up in one nest. And I'm sorry in advance; I'm not quite sure of what I'm doing all this for and I can't see where I'll end up, anymore.

Mock what?

2008-04-24T00:12:00.000-07:00

Maybe the only real cure for total social retardation is one too many spirits in an ice cold blend.

Cut for convenience

2008-04-15T20:42:00.000-07:00

... I love how worked up I get, over you, every Nationals. I hate how worked up I get, over you, every Nationals. I love your "just right" height. I hate your "not right" age. I love your profile. I love that nose. I love that I'm older and I can make gago to death. I hate that I'm older and I can't seriously like you. I hate your girl, or girlfriend, I just do. I love that I get wide-eyed and tongue-tied when your friends pass the phone to you. I hate that I'm too wide-eyed and tongue-tied to speak, so I pass it on to someone else, too.

HDs are awesome, pedos are cool (;

Seriousness haha

2008-03-20T19:53:00.001-07:00

I'm rolling with the notion that I'm struggling with two never-ending quests: the first, for an arsenal of words that send my ears screaming into a vicious psychobabble orgasm and the second, for an empty stomach.

The one wherein I speak honey and spices, stumble all over to cater to your needs, and smirk at the mention of your name; doesn't seem to strike me as a quest or mission or anything of much significance -it just happens to be my favorite game.

It worries me, sometimes; the fact that most people's company tires me. I never was very good at masking my far-and-away stares and "I'd rather be anywhere" voice. There is a special half-smile reserved for the more trying sorts -the one that looks a little bit pained and a great deal forced, with no intention of being polite.

A little girl plops down beside me and her incessant questions draw out my most mellow, most droll tone of voice. Her brown eyes skim past my lack of interest, but she walks away anyway..kids and their attention spans. I appreciate it, though..how her fleeting interest benefits my lack of interest whatsoever; in her, in her cherry popsicle, in her summer vacation, in her straight A's in the 2nd grade, and in any noise from anyone I have to expend any effort to converse with.

I'm more than happy to hear the clickity-clack of my laptop and some faint background noise: a few glasses being knocked together, a kid signaling that cute waitress who probably doesn't speak enough English to bother me. This, after all, is turning out to be the only logical way to sort out my thoughts. Maybe my mom is right, maybe I am unfriendly

..just not with everyone.

To thine own self, be true

2008-03-20T18:31:00.000-07:00

Why am I trying so hard; why do I want this to mean so much..

and..why doesn't it?

I try and I try and I try

2008-03-18T07:23:00.000-07:00

Entire systems in me are constantly struggling, pulling, tugging at my resolve. My ever-changing resolve. You could shake me off, if you wanted to. This craving -insatiable, hormonal (completely devoid of whatever decency I've been left with); will be curbed..not satisfied, just silenced. No rules, no games..head-first, heart-first, no fucking around.

This is me, being restless, because I haven't caught sight of you in days. You are what five hours under the sun -pulling my joints, catching my breath, bruising my knees, burning my skin; can't peel off my incoherent thoughts. I am the lack of subtlety that'll rock your naivety once around the block and back.

Knowing that you wouldn't be there to miss, tonight, made it that much easier to stay in.

Tetris

2008-02-28T04:05:00.000-08:00

My brain is trying
and failing

to extract
and eliminate

every
little
bit
of you,

from my short-term
memory banks,

without

completely

wiping

the slate

clean.

Waiting on those smiling eyes

2008-02-09T23:52:00.000-08:00

It's not like I haven't got anything to say.

No, I don't, okay

2008-01-24T01:58:00.000-08:00

The way people talk, is going to reduce this to ruins. I'd say they were clueless, but I know they're just insincere. They aren't ignorant, just a little too dense. I'm screaming "Silence!" behind these lips stitched up and forced into a curl. I'll retreat into those bits kept in desk drawers and scribbles.

For the record, I'm -..okay?

Everyone, but

2008-01-19T23:00:00.000-08:00

My eyes flash bright green, on the scene, and I look them up and down. My head can't help but scream that those flirts will never be enough for you. Maybe in my head, I'm hoping I'll never have to sigh and say "Fine, that'll do." My lips are tight and sworn to secrecy (let's keep the alcohol away from this sinking ship) because I've got no right to win and all I can do is single you out in the crowd.

My eyes dart back and forth, as the beats fall into place on my hips and the stiffness falters right when I find you. When the lights cascade, all I can do to keep from smiling way too wide is try not to glance too long. The sound of that voice when I know those eyes are on the red, black, white keeps my eyes from flashing bright green; that laugh that told me you were looking when I tried to make you.

Thank you for the moments you'll never know you gave me (:

"NATT!"

2008-01-12T22:21:00.000-08:00

You've got to wipe that silly blush off your face..let's not be too obvious, now. Why can't you seem to remember that one little resolution? -right, right, because this one's different (just like all the others were, at first)

Fair warning

2008-01-01T19:23:00.000-08:00

She called me a rubix cube; probably for good reason. Perhaps the name isn't even enough. There are certain rules to follow in cracking the code..but these twists and turns that have become tried-and-tested solutions will not guarantee anything with someone whose indecision goes beyond colors and shapes -right into sparks and fireworks and catches. Watch out for "I think"s and "maybe this is"s: never confuse "I might" for "I do"s..and be cautious when you deal with me at my weakest: when I refuse those damn chasers. Because then..then, you -and anyone else who happens to conveniently be beside me, can fool yourself into believing the hilarious lie that I am yours. Because then..then, and only then, perhaps I might be yours. In all drunken fun-loving hilarity, I might be yours. But sober, I am no one else's but the world's..until that "palms sweating, heart racing, butterflies in my stomach, omg does my hair look okay?" feeling comes back to haunt and resign me to finally belong to my own World, the way I'm sure I did, once upon a time.

-Zips lips- suhweeetie

2007-12-17T05:48:00.000-08:00

Why yes..yes, I do like to think that I am extremely secretive (;

Nothing, really

2007-12-15T17:41:00.000-08:00

Maybe our minds are capable of keeping things hidden from the rest of our consciousness. Let's assume, for example, that there is a small, secluded room right at the very tip of the medulla oblongata (because it's the funniest part to say), kept under lock and key by a tiny man in a purple top hat that is three sizes too big for his head (because I like top hats). Let's say this man's name is Piedro, and he and his purple top hat have been making rounds, collecting little scraps of memories and dreams that you could do without, ever since that fateful day you'd been conceived and drowned in your mother's womb. Maybe Piedro thinks we can all do without those insane, bloody memories of being forced out of some one's vagina and slapped on our asses; maybe he thinks we need to remember things like our first heartbreak instead of the time we fell off our bikes and hit our heads on the pavement. I think he conspires with alcohol and Alzheimer's, and I hate how he occasionally steals our crammed TE reviews and leaves us with searing images of red X's and horrible marks.

Tomato soup sabaw!

2007-12-11T04:22:00.000-08:00

Sleepy-eyed and full of sighs, I'll shuffle my way back into your brain at the most ungodly hours. Yes, I'm trying to make this hard. Sans that clueless little looking-glass, I'll know right where we're at, this time. So when the breeze carries a whiff of me, yes sweetie, it's me. And when the light hits everything just right, yes, I -and only I; just wanted you to see every ounce of what could be.

It's my very first priority to make everything a little brighter: to show you how blue the sky is and how perfectly the world turns when you feel like spinning. I'm out to show you just how perfectly the world turns on my axis, when I know that I've got you spinning.

This is the way that my words dart across another empty space..and another, and another again until I overlay some sort of rhythm in my head (but only in my head, until the schizophrenia sinks in). Oh and when the songs make you turn and redden at those little cheeks, yes, I -and only I; must've wanted you to hum along coz I -and only I; know those kinds of songs.

I know I should be keeping myself from writing all this gibberish, because there are no faces to accompany these sickeningly strange ideals. But maybe, maybe..please. Fireworks and a little originality, please. It's about time. Amen.

What questions, what answers

2007-12-03T01:53:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, people stay silent out of secrecy, sometimes it's self-preservation, and sometimes..sometimes, we honestly just don't..know..what to say..

(without screwing ourselves over, inexplicitly)

Talk about run-on

2007-11-27T02:17:00.000-08:00

My words have been forced down
like soup and cider,
and we might never know
the meanings behind those
quick glances that
(in all honesty)
have become equivalent
to long-drawn stares
solely because,
between the increasing awareness
of that muscle in my chest cavity
and the sure slowing down
of the secondhand,
our silent passings have become static eternities.

A little restraint

2007-11-27T02:05:00.000-08:00

Note to self: this is getting a wiiiddle bit out of hand.

No matter what kinda day it is (:

2007-11-24T17:00:00.000-08:00

This is a mess of excitement and fear. I'm holding on so furiously to my aces, and I don't know if it's the risk of losing or of winning, behind my resilience.

Everything's perfectly fine, as it is..more than fine, every now and then, in all honesty. My thoughts ride on hours and minutes and seconds that pass without so much as a smirk, but in a sudden explosion of wit and secrecy, time is a bargaining chip!, or an old excuse!, a cover-up, or a barrier; it's an enemy of virtues, it's insanity's par amour.

It's another slow and steady way into my kind of delusions; your sort of charm's weapon of choice..it's nothing really, but it makes my day a little less like an hourglass and a little more like a life.

Save yourself

2007-11-21T03:17:00.000-08:00

An infinite amount of beats will hide my all too bruised and beaten past, as I work up the nerve to steal more than coveted glances and try my hardest not to forget to breathe, between counts.

You keep lockers safe

2007-11-20T02:50:00.000-08:00

Coffee beans and rainbows; it's all too cliche, but I think of you and everything changes. I'm sugar high on an empty stomach, I don't know why but something says it's okay to feel this way. Rhyming's been an automatic option in my head but I'd really rather not make any sense instead.

Maybe this should've hit harder than one sleepless night, but I'm hoping I can cut the drama and just say it's alright. There's something about..*no, let's not succumb to these words just yet.

The saddest part

2007-11-09T22:56:00.000-08:00

I've come to fear my words.

From ljsecret

2007-11-01T20:09:00.000-07:00

Peace of mind

2007-10-29T21:17:00.001-07:00

The World crumbles, or self-destructs..the other end is left hanging. The pen answers, the music soothes, hips sway, words come, colors flow. Promises expire, and occasions become days..this is the beginning of forgetfulness: negligence, by choice. This is the way by which renewal comes without the cost of tear-stained sheets and empty hangovers -this is the option that eases out the need to scream for that shot glass.

Contrary to this insanely fickle weather, my own skies have cleared..I've slipped back into my age, right where I've belonged (and forgotten to belong) -back into present happiness. You've fit, perfectly, back into my favorite keepsake box to be kept atop my highest shelf Forever. Precisely until Hell freezes over.

I do believe I enjoy being alive a little more than I ever thought I would (:

What doesn't kill you

2007-10-24T04:20:00.000-07:00

Silence bears some grudge against me..it brings the cloudiness back into my far and away gaze; it purses my lips and grits my teeth. It glazes my vision, leaving plaid skirts and magazine cutouts to fade into old tiles and older thoughts. The steady background noise -a.k.a. the all too familiar Assumptionista banter, folds into a heartbeat.

I cannot keep myself when the silence comes..it insists upon all of me. My present's defenses crumble, brick by brick, with every tick. There's so little left to resort to, in the armory..soon enough, it's all going to be down to stolen glances and wishful thinking.

Regardless..there are no guarantees -not even of failure, or despair; all we've got in this life are opportunities to fight, and the chance to make things right, for our own sake. In time, I will have convinced the most stubborn bits of my mind and soul..and the silence will find no means of attack. My resolve will shelter no weakness whatsoever.

Monkey with a typewriter!

2007-10-22T05:32:00.000-07:00

Here's to the future that we thought would never come: the awakening.

We're out to get up and get out and get on with everything.

Here's to me and here's to you..and you and you,

and to how everything's gonna be sunshine and daisies from over here, too.

And here's to making no sense -absolutely no sense, like a psychotic mess

with a megawhite grin

..like chills on Christmas Eve, and winning Simon Says.

Forward, backward, rightward, leftward happy all the time (:

Even when I'm not

Mr. Neruda,

2007-10-20T16:52:00.000-07:00

I hate nights when I can write the saddest lines.

2007-10-20T02:19:00.000-07:00

If my Faith could move mountains, I'd leave no room for doubt. There'd be no question of who we were and what we've done..there'd be just us; what we are, what we'll always be. If my Faith could move mountains, I'd leave no room for regret..and you'd have as much Faith in yourself as I do, in you..and you'd have a little Faith in my Faith, too.

If my Faith was enough for you to have a little Faith, then my Faith would move mountains.

When the mind refuses to believe in Faith, the heart is ultimately made ready to break.

Please care

2007-10-16T04:52:00.000-07:00

I wish I could mean to leave it at
"Let's just not"

..but I pull away, wince at the pain
I alone have inflicted upon
nobody but myself
-when all I really want to do
is elicit a little sensation from you;
and reach back in for that
half-hearted "try",
those words that always seem to come
with a two-week expiration.

Coming back

2007-10-14T01:08:00.000-07:00

There's always been no other way to feel at ease in this skin and at Home with these bones. No other way than this: to belong, so obviously, to the one I'd fall to my knees, whispering "please understand"s, for -the one with whom there is no doubt, no hesitation. The love that simply is.

After an age of fear and flight, my need to fight has come into perfect terms with the damn world..nothing's falling into place: everything's suspended in the sky, like a million constellations, and I haven't bothered to ask why.

After rereading

2007-09-29T17:33:00.000-07:00

None of this is me. These aren't my words. They haven't been, for ages.
Why? Because nothing's been right..and that's gotta change.

I miss my words..my real words -regardless of whether they sounded like a silly little schoolgirl's words, for as long as they were this silly little schoolgirl's words.

I've just gotta get out of here

Been there

2007-09-28T06:31:00.000-07:00

What makes everyone else simply part of the world is that they can't see beyond their own stories. Every piece of information is relative..subject to their past experiences, comparable to their own norms. By the world's standards, the most miniscule things are rightly blown out of proportion. By their standards, a rose holds all the beauty imaginable; a star gives off all the light conceivable; a cut that scars is a pain all too great to bear.

But in this light, a rose is just another plant bound to wither and rot with the rest of the day's garbage, and star is another satellite merely defined by the darkness surrounding it..because, in this light -in this World, we've learned to detach completely from mangled flesh and broken bones.

The point is that nobody else has to understand (:

This freaking cycle

2007-09-27T04:46:00.000-07:00

All it took was that one, irreversible mistake.

I tried

2007-09-24T06:07:00.000-07:00

I warned you not to come too close: I told you to cover your ears. I tried so hard to keep them covered, for you..or, at the very least, to limit what they had to hear -to control what your mind had to misconstrue, and whatever it is you had to feel..a little too much from someone who wasn't enough.

No time to write. No right to write. Right? Right.

Brace yourself

2007-09-11T00:11:00.000-07:00

Don't come too close. Cover your ears. The most dangerous part is the sweetness of it all; the way those words, which fool you like a fucking mirage of an oasis, are just endless waves of sand that are bound to come crashing down. Never fall in love with a shadow of a writer.

Better than I felt it

2007-09-10T23:47:00.000-07:00

It shouldn't be this easy. Things shouldn't be this hard. It should start like a heart on electricity. It should come without the need for incentive

..this isn't how I wanna be; this isn't how I'm supposed to be.

Easy lang (:

2007-09-07T04:26:00.000-07:00

People say that they've been there and back, when something in me just knows that true maturity must realize that we're all struggling on the same damn plane, regardless of age or experience.

It's not about what you've heard or seen, or how much of the world you've been exposed to, and it's not even about how you've taken all that in and how you've picked every tiny detail of this dysfunctional little paraiso, out. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: it's about who you are..and I may not be all that proud of who I am..but I am proud of who I am trying to be (and, in retrospect, the mere that I'm "trying", makes me proud of who I am, as well)

I am not just another bleep on the radar -I refuse to be,
I am more than a sigh, or a whispered curse
-or a thousand curses on society and conformity:
I, in all my lack of years, am out to be a voice of change.
I, in all my lack of true knowledge, am out to use whatever smarts I've got
(booksmarts or what have you),
not to criticize the illusions imposed upon us by those damn institutions,
but to break through those notions, to see past the smoke and mirrors.

You -and anyone else, can say what you want about what I lack and what I shouldn't say (or what I don't have the right to say, just yet)..we know the truth. I haven't the time to waste on that Real World..I'd much rather work for some happiness in the world I've got.

On demons

2007-09-05T03:33:00.000-07:00

I want out of my head and all its little quirks. I want out of how it goes stomping around my insides; flaunting the authority it's got over the blood in my veins, the heart in my chest cavity and the trigger over that numbing sensation.

And the minute it's done rationalizing everything, all there is to realize is that I'm stuck. I want out of my head. I want out of this skin. I want a clear stream of tears out of this flesh and away from the migraines..but those tears never come: something in my head says that they have no right, or reason, to.

Stop dictating my moods. Get out of my head. Somebody get me out of my head and away from those promises I've yet to make, again..promises I, for one, might never make again.

Study break

2007-09-02T01:04:00.000-07:00

When exactly did I fall in love with you?

Oh, right; when everything decided to fall into place (:

You and I; we've got so much to say..we've got all the time in the world. From the day the universe began to unfurl its twisted little scheme, 'til God knows when..it's thrown, I'm sprung, and I won't get sick of throwing it around just to acknowledge the reason behind that spring in my step.

Straight to the point

2007-08-29T03:29:00.000-07:00

There are three words that everyone throws around with way too much ease. For the longest time, I'd come to doubt the power vested in that phrase. And I called it stupid one time too many. And I've made jokes about it, answering "What is love?"s with "Sexy time, duh", way too many times, as well.

I guess people are right when they say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. The most painful memories are the ones that stick..it's like that psychological test, where you hold up a sheet of paper with one ink blot and ask people "What do you see?"

The damn ink blot, no shit.

So, pain? Everyone's gone through that..some more than others, some more deserving of it than others..but it's the same pain, nonetheless. And that pain..it's something you have to suck up and fight. It's not something you forget. It's not something you can toss away. Hell, sometimes it's not even something you get over -or something you should get over. More often than not, it's something you carry with you -not as a scar or a burden, but more like a reminder..not as a trophy, either..something buried a little closer to Home.

Pain and love..as psychotic as it sounds..go hand in hand. You live, you love, you lose, you learn..and, sooner or later, you start all over again. It didn't take me just six weeks to say three little words..it took me over a year. But now, you know for sure that I meant them..not just every word, or every syllable, or every letter..but the kisses between the lines and the whispers underlying.

This sucks

2007-08-20T02:24:00.000-07:00

I haven't been able to write anything substancial, after that last entry..because all this time missing you just seems to translate into those same words over and over again.

How can it pain me so, to not have you with me?

No fucking way

2007-08-16T18:45:00.000-07:00

When rain falls like this,
your perfect chocolate skin, comes to mind.
Some switch in my head goes off,
and I swear
I can hear your breathing..
your breathing between kisses,
your sighs,
your breathing so entangled in my own
that breaths become kisses themselves.
The rain continues to fall, and
some ghost of those arms
and hands
make their way
up
and down
the skin of my back.
The droplets slide down my windows,
and I feel you and your breath
and your kisses on my neck
the way I feel the chill on my legs;
I see my soul reaching out to pull you close,
the way my actual arms reach
for coffee and sheets.
Every inch of me aches
for you:
you and your stares,
those looks, that face..
you and our limbs intertwined,
and your hands in mine.
How can the memory of your contour against mine,
dominate every thought and sense of my mind and flesh?
How can it pain me so, to not have you with me?
I want you, all the time..

Oh, God

2007-08-14T18:39:00.000-07:00

I thought the words would come, by now

..*clap clap* you've literally left me speechless