Monday, December 5, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Oh Well
I'm not a big fan of competitions. Honestly, it was not something that I enjoyed doing (even when I was actually in it). This is the main reason why I hated being placed in a spot where I will be open to being compared with someone else. I know what my strengths are and I know where I am weak at. If I know that I can contribute to the cause then I will gladly lend a hand but if I will turn out to be a liability, I would rather sit in one corner and watch those who are excellent in that aspect shine. Sadly, some people perceive this as an attitude problem. Oh well, we can't please everyone.
Apathy, the answer to such problems.
Apathy, the answer to such problems.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
A Letter
Dear Heart,
Stressful year, right? After that eventful September last year, we both thought that you could no longer handle the blows but you sure proved me wrong. I watched in amazement as you braced yourself to be displayed on my sleeve again, bruised but ready to give whatever what was left. We loved again without caution, thinking that fate was on our side this time but sadly, we were wrong again for the nth time. I was the sad spectator of how he ripped you apart and I just let him because we both thought he was the one. I am sorry. I should have kept you safe and gave you time to heal instead of jumping on that bandwagon again. I made a mistake, Heart and I do not know how to fix you this time. You seemed different now. You harbour ill feelings and you nurture the hate growing inside you. They hover above us like dark clouds. Your wounds are not healing, you're not allowing them to heal; hence we remember what happened - the airport scene, Chinatown, the secrets, the other women, the endless packing, and the waiting. You are bitter, angry and resigned to disenchantment. I did this to you. I should have taken better care of you and kept you away from the clutches of that mad man.
Don't worry, Heart. He can't hurt you anymore because I won't let him. Sleep for now, rest and find comfort in knowing that I kept you where no one else can find you. When the right time comes and God wills it, you'll be yourself again - shiny, happy and alive.
Wake up when you're ready.
Stressful year, right? After that eventful September last year, we both thought that you could no longer handle the blows but you sure proved me wrong. I watched in amazement as you braced yourself to be displayed on my sleeve again, bruised but ready to give whatever what was left. We loved again without caution, thinking that fate was on our side this time but sadly, we were wrong again for the nth time. I was the sad spectator of how he ripped you apart and I just let him because we both thought he was the one. I am sorry. I should have kept you safe and gave you time to heal instead of jumping on that bandwagon again. I made a mistake, Heart and I do not know how to fix you this time. You seemed different now. You harbour ill feelings and you nurture the hate growing inside you. They hover above us like dark clouds. Your wounds are not healing, you're not allowing them to heal; hence we remember what happened - the airport scene, Chinatown, the secrets, the other women, the endless packing, and the waiting. You are bitter, angry and resigned to disenchantment. I did this to you. I should have taken better care of you and kept you away from the clutches of that mad man.
Don't worry, Heart. He can't hurt you anymore because I won't let him. Sleep for now, rest and find comfort in knowing that I kept you where no one else can find you. When the right time comes and God wills it, you'll be yourself again - shiny, happy and alive.
Wake up when you're ready.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
After Rehearsals
my unbound hands traced the price
and it was more than what I had prayed for
I sat here brooding for hours
over stitches that were never clean enough
and wounds that unknowingly open
just for the heck of opening
I watched the shadow hover above my head last night
as my body spiraled around the studio
while my feet tried to reclaim its former glory
the price
for wrong decisions that were corrected
for impatient strides that were retraced
and for love, love that has turned sour overnight.
and it was more than what I had prayed for
I sat here brooding for hours
over stitches that were never clean enough
and wounds that unknowingly open
just for the heck of opening
I watched the shadow hover above my head last night
as my body spiraled around the studio
while my feet tried to reclaim its former glory
the price
for wrong decisions that were corrected
for impatient strides that were retraced
and for love, love that has turned sour overnight.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Blank
Okay...I don't really have an excuse as to why I have been neglecting my blog. It's not the flood, nor my schedule because I am not entirely sure what the reason is. All I know is all I see is one, shiny blank sheet staring back at me.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Pattaya City Plus Bangsaen (Part 1)
Note: I should have posted this three weekends ago.
Because I was so determined to prove to my friends that I can reclaim the former glory of being a true, unattached single adventurer, I decided to go on a spur-of-the-moment trip to visit two places which I have been eyeing to discover for some time now.
So one, boring Saturday night (after I ran out of things to do in my apartment), I put on my fave travel clothes (specifically, a hooded t-shirt and a pair of shorts), slipped into my havies, packed Iko, some much needed toiletries plus snacks, and stashed my passport in my back pocket. After making a quick call to a friend, I was off to Pattaya City on my own.
My first dilemma was getting to Victory Monument. Although I have passed through this route countless times, I was still unsure. I checked google maps so to know which bus to take and since this supposedly fail-free site failed me several times in the past, I decided to call a friend as well to inquire about the bus number. After 20 minutes on Bus 39, I finally arrived in Victory Monument.
The second dilemma was finding the cheapest transportation service in the area. The last time I went to Pattaya City, we rode on a van and paid 130 baht but when we went back to Bangkok from there, we only paid 90 baht. We discovered too late that there were several transportation services strategically stationed around Victory Monument. When I got there, I couldn't find the van with the 90 baht fare but I was able to get on a van which asked for 100 baht. Once I was comfortably seated on the second row, I logged into facebook (my account then was still not deactivated) and anxiously waited for three hours to get there.
Travel time from Bangkok to Pattaya City is approximately 2-3 hours and it will help if you have a book or an ipod to keep you preoccupied. If you think that technology is too much of a nuisance, then you can enjoy the astonishing change from Bangkok's sky scrapers to the countryside's crop paddies. The safest stop in Pattaya City is Walking Street. Safe in a sense that you are right in the center of everything --- you have easy access to hotels, restaurants, bars, travel agencies, and the beach.
When the driver dropped me off in Walking Street, I went to the nearest travel agency to inquire about Mini Siam's location. Thailand's addresses are a bit tricky. The spelling you will see online may not be the same spelling you will see in the actual place, and the language barrier will only make matters worst. You can try as hard as you could to speak pasa-Thai but in the end, you'll only get a "mai kao jai." Being just a few months old here, I am still groping with getting the right accent. People here always say that I speak funny.
The manager of the travel agency told me to get on a song teaw (a converted pick-up truck used for public transportation which can accommodate about sixteen people in the back and two in front) and get off in Sukhumvit Road then get on another song teaw going to Mini Siam. Song teaw fares are usually 10 baht per person. The driver (after seeing my camera and map) tried to scam me by offering to take me to Mini Siam if I paid 170 baht. I opted not to take the offer and waited for other passengers which I am thankful for because Sukhumvit Road from Walking Street was just a 15-minute ride.
I met a motorcycle driver while I was searching for my first stop - Mini Siam. After asking seven other motorcycle drivers, we finally bumped into someone who knew where Mini Siam was. People here are more accustomed to the Thai names so it will be best if you knew both Thai and English names of the places that you plan to visit. This same driver (oooppppsss, too lazy to continue this now...)
Because I was so determined to prove to my friends that I can reclaim the former glory of being a true, unattached single adventurer, I decided to go on a spur-of-the-moment trip to visit two places which I have been eyeing to discover for some time now.
So one, boring Saturday night (after I ran out of things to do in my apartment), I put on my fave travel clothes (specifically, a hooded t-shirt and a pair of shorts), slipped into my havies, packed Iko, some much needed toiletries plus snacks, and stashed my passport in my back pocket. After making a quick call to a friend, I was off to Pattaya City on my own.
My first dilemma was getting to Victory Monument. Although I have passed through this route countless times, I was still unsure. I checked google maps so to know which bus to take and since this supposedly fail-free site failed me several times in the past, I decided to call a friend as well to inquire about the bus number. After 20 minutes on Bus 39, I finally arrived in Victory Monument.
The second dilemma was finding the cheapest transportation service in the area. The last time I went to Pattaya City, we rode on a van and paid 130 baht but when we went back to Bangkok from there, we only paid 90 baht. We discovered too late that there were several transportation services strategically stationed around Victory Monument. When I got there, I couldn't find the van with the 90 baht fare but I was able to get on a van which asked for 100 baht. Once I was comfortably seated on the second row, I logged into facebook (my account then was still not deactivated) and anxiously waited for three hours to get there.
Travel time from Bangkok to Pattaya City is approximately 2-3 hours and it will help if you have a book or an ipod to keep you preoccupied. If you think that technology is too much of a nuisance, then you can enjoy the astonishing change from Bangkok's sky scrapers to the countryside's crop paddies. The safest stop in Pattaya City is Walking Street. Safe in a sense that you are right in the center of everything --- you have easy access to hotels, restaurants, bars, travel agencies, and the beach.
When the driver dropped me off in Walking Street, I went to the nearest travel agency to inquire about Mini Siam's location. Thailand's addresses are a bit tricky. The spelling you will see online may not be the same spelling you will see in the actual place, and the language barrier will only make matters worst. You can try as hard as you could to speak pasa-Thai but in the end, you'll only get a "mai kao jai." Being just a few months old here, I am still groping with getting the right accent. People here always say that I speak funny.
The manager of the travel agency told me to get on a song teaw (a converted pick-up truck used for public transportation which can accommodate about sixteen people in the back and two in front) and get off in Sukhumvit Road then get on another song teaw going to Mini Siam. Song teaw fares are usually 10 baht per person. The driver (after seeing my camera and map) tried to scam me by offering to take me to Mini Siam if I paid 170 baht. I opted not to take the offer and waited for other passengers which I am thankful for because Sukhumvit Road from Walking Street was just a 15-minute ride.
I met a motorcycle driver while I was searching for my first stop - Mini Siam. After asking seven other motorcycle drivers, we finally bumped into someone who knew where Mini Siam was. People here are more accustomed to the Thai names so it will be best if you knew both Thai and English names of the places that you plan to visit. This same driver (oooppppsss, too lazy to continue this now...)
If
If I were to reclaim the red skies I greedily owned and wage my wars again like the witch who danced into any man's heart, I will wash everything with white and repaint a different picture. Maybe a calm moon and few hundred stars here and there for a change, and the skies will be soaked in violet and vanilla, then maybe (just maybe), the storms will not be so harsh but would be like a lover's caress and the chilly air will smell like a thousand memories rolled into one.
If I were a gypsy again, I will find a man with no face, no name, nor family and friends to claim him. I will take his will in a single stride and leave him with a memory of a beautiful dream; one that he can always go back to at the comfort of his own mind. I will bear children with names like Luna, River, Redienne, Violet and Autumn.
If.
But I am, otherwise.
If I were a gypsy again, I will find a man with no face, no name, nor family and friends to claim him. I will take his will in a single stride and leave him with a memory of a beautiful dream; one that he can always go back to at the comfort of his own mind. I will bear children with names like Luna, River, Redienne, Violet and Autumn.
If.
But I am, otherwise.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Why you should date a girl who reads.
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve. (Probably not twelve, maybe even younger!)
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book, lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.
- Rosemarie Urquico
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book, lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.
- Rosemarie Urquico
Monday, July 25, 2011
Sugar-coated Donuts with Oats
Last weekend I attempted to make my gramma's donuts but sadly, mine did not taste and look like hers. My donuts looked pretty but they tasted funny too. Lola Miming made the task of baking donuts look so easy.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Champorado
Suddenly I had the urge to eat champorado. Okay, you're probably wondering what the heck is champorado? I'm not quite sure if this is purely a Philippine delicacy but this is the term that we coined for chocolate porridge. Back home, my grandmother always prepared this during breakfast and she always made sure that there was a bottle of milk on the table, just in case we found the cocoa in the champorado too strong or too thick.
Since this is not sold nor served here in Thailand, I decided to make one.
Since this is not sold nor served here in Thailand, I decided to make one.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Unhooking Demented Thoughts
The sound of death
wrenched my heart from where it slept,
breathed for momentary oblivion
but the consciousness has been breached,
fallen into that familiar nostalgia,
down into where the buried rested
and now bound to haunt...
Self, learn to forgive...
-Sleepless @ 4F7, from Manang Gladys Susan
wrenched my heart from where it slept,
breathed for momentary oblivion
but the consciousness has been breached,
fallen into that familiar nostalgia,
down into where the buried rested
and now bound to haunt...
Self, learn to forgive...
-Sleepless @ 4F7, from Manang Gladys Susan
Sunday, May 15, 2011
And The Third Will Be A Charm
About two weeks ago, I bought some materials and ingredients so that I can finally start my kitchen project. They are not much but they will do for the time being since I have only started. My first attempt at baking was a mess. It was probably a mess because other than not knowing what I exactly needed to do, I also lacked the most important equipment --- the oven(LOL!!!) I know, I know. What the hell was I thinking, right? Well I read in one of the blogs that the microwave can also be handy in baking so, I decided to give it a whack.
My first attempt at baking using the microwave was a disaster. My, eherm, food critic said that it was delicious but the presentation was really messy (in short, if it was sold in a pastry shop --- no one would bother even tasting it!) Check my Choco-Carrot cake with chocolate frosting below:
That was my first attempt. Fortunately, my second attempt at baking in a microwave turned out better than the first one. I decided to make a chocolate cake with cheesecake frosting. Yum!!!
My first attempt at baking using the microwave was a disaster. My, eherm, food critic said that it was delicious but the presentation was really messy (in short, if it was sold in a pastry shop --- no one would bother even tasting it!) Check my Choco-Carrot cake with chocolate frosting below:
That was my first attempt. Fortunately, my second attempt at baking in a microwave turned out better than the first one. I decided to make a chocolate cake with cheesecake frosting. Yum!!!
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Leave Some Things Free Of That Poison
and what of wanting a little piece of life, of finding love, of marrying your prince and having children, of weaving a conventional life where God is the center, of building a home where all good things will hopefully begin...what about them? sadly, as she has said before, we can't build little picket fences to keep the nightmares away.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Frog Prince Anyone?
I decided to re-post this!!! Old treasure...wonderful find indeed...
Once upon a time,
~~~~~~~~
in a land far away
~~~~~~~~
a beautiful, independent,
~~~~~~~~
self-assured princess
~~~~~~~~
happened upon a frog as she sat,
~~~~~~~~
contemplating ecological issues
~~~~~~~~
on the shores of an unpolluted pond
~~~~~~~~
in a verdant meadow near her castle.
~~~~~~~~
The frog hopped into the princess' lap
~~~~~~~~
and said: Elegant Lady,
~~~~~~~~
I was once a handsome prince,
~~~~~~~~
until an evil witch cast a spell upon me.
~~~~~~~~
One kiss from you, however,
~~~~~~~~
and I will turn back
~~~~~~~~
into the dapper, young prince that I am
~~~~~~~~
and then, my sweet, we can marry
~~~~~~~~
and setup housekeeping in your castle
~~~~~~~~
with my mother,
~~~~~~~~
where you can prepare my meals,
~~~~~~~~
clean my clothes, bear my children,
~~~~~~~~
and forever
~~~~~~~~
feel grateful and happy doing so.
~~~~~~~~
That night,
~~~~~~~
as the princess dined sumptuously
~~~~~~~~
on a repast of lightly sauteed frog legs
~~~~~~~~
seasoned in a white wine
~~~~~~~
and onion cream sauce,
~~~~~~~~
she chuckled and thought to herself:
~~~~~~~~
I don't fucking think so
Once upon a time,
~~~~~~~~
in a land far away
~~~~~~~~
a beautiful, independent,
~~~~~~~~
self-assured princess
~~~~~~~~
happened upon a frog as she sat,
~~~~~~~~
contemplating ecological issues
~~~~~~~~
on the shores of an unpolluted pond
~~~~~~~~
in a verdant meadow near her castle.
~~~~~~~~
The frog hopped into the princess' lap
~~~~~~~~
and said: Elegant Lady,
~~~~~~~~
I was once a handsome prince,
~~~~~~~~
until an evil witch cast a spell upon me.
~~~~~~~~
One kiss from you, however,
~~~~~~~~
and I will turn back
~~~~~~~~
into the dapper, young prince that I am
~~~~~~~~
and then, my sweet, we can marry
~~~~~~~~
and setup housekeeping in your castle
~~~~~~~~
with my mother,
~~~~~~~~
where you can prepare my meals,
~~~~~~~~
clean my clothes, bear my children,
~~~~~~~~
and forever
~~~~~~~~
feel grateful and happy doing so.
~~~~~~~~
That night,
~~~~~~~
as the princess dined sumptuously
~~~~~~~~
on a repast of lightly sauteed frog legs
~~~~~~~~
seasoned in a white wine
~~~~~~~
and onion cream sauce,
~~~~~~~~
she chuckled and thought to herself:
~~~~~~~~
I don't fucking think so
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Bonsai Again
Yesterday I heard the pastor call out, heard him encourage people to stand and come closer to the cross with their heads down. And my forehead burrowed into a frown because I couldn't move my legs. I stayed where I was, looking at the floor. Ashamed but still proud because I couldn't let go of my anger. I wanted to scream why. I wanted the thoughts to stop. I wanted to shove the hatred away. But I also knew, I wanted to keep them. I wanted to plant them in my heart and nurture them while those wheels kept turning.
It wasn't just about him anymore. It was about all those years, years where the joys could not compensate the blows I had to withstand. People do not understand because they do not know what I went through. What do they know? I do not need to explain to them why I am doing what I am doing. Even if I explain my reasons, they will not believe me anyway... so why bother?
But You, You know everything. You know what I went through and although You made sure that I had something to fall back on, You still allowed it to happen. Just as You allowed that Bobby to trace ungodly marks on my 12 year old body, just as you let me work while my friends lived a sheltered life, just as You paved the way for me to feel my relatives' wrath for my mother, just as You allowed my mother to gamble her way to whichever end you prepared for her while her children suffered, just as You watched me break despite my attempts to do everything plausible to make everything right, just as You marveled on a child's capacity to survive watching her father's heart break so many times and transfer his frustration on her mother's face.
I never understood the great plan. I never understood who got to live this kind of life or that kind of life. This is not about losing a lover. This is about losing your dreams, losing your love for life, losing people you care about, losing whatever pride you have left.
I am back to who I was when I was 14 - angry, angst-driven, disappointed. I am too old to be 14 now but I am too hateful to care. Maybe they are right, maybe I am a hypocrite, maybe the person they knew in the past few years was someone who I have been trying to be but just couldn't be, maybe I should stop going to church, maybe I should just stop whatever I am doing and just go where ever my feet will take me, maybe the great plan was to ruin people's lives.
It wasn't just about him anymore. It was about all those years, years where the joys could not compensate the blows I had to withstand. People do not understand because they do not know what I went through. What do they know? I do not need to explain to them why I am doing what I am doing. Even if I explain my reasons, they will not believe me anyway... so why bother?
But You, You know everything. You know what I went through and although You made sure that I had something to fall back on, You still allowed it to happen. Just as You allowed that Bobby to trace ungodly marks on my 12 year old body, just as you let me work while my friends lived a sheltered life, just as You paved the way for me to feel my relatives' wrath for my mother, just as You allowed my mother to gamble her way to whichever end you prepared for her while her children suffered, just as You watched me break despite my attempts to do everything plausible to make everything right, just as You marveled on a child's capacity to survive watching her father's heart break so many times and transfer his frustration on her mother's face.
I never understood the great plan. I never understood who got to live this kind of life or that kind of life. This is not about losing a lover. This is about losing your dreams, losing your love for life, losing people you care about, losing whatever pride you have left.
I am back to who I was when I was 14 - angry, angst-driven, disappointed. I am too old to be 14 now but I am too hateful to care. Maybe they are right, maybe I am a hypocrite, maybe the person they knew in the past few years was someone who I have been trying to be but just couldn't be, maybe I should stop going to church, maybe I should just stop whatever I am doing and just go where ever my feet will take me, maybe the great plan was to ruin people's lives.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Before All Else
My friend, Ate Lan, found this while cleaning her email account. The truth is, I have totally forgotten about this poem and it was such a wonderful surprise to come across old works which were discarded. If I can remember correctly, I think I wrote this when I was in Bahrain and was maintaining a different blog (a blog which I may have deleted or may have just forgotten what the log-in details were...tsk tsk tsk, how typical). Anyway, enjoy the poem. Cheers to 2005!
shoot that moon before it gets away
grab those stars
before the sun makes them sway
grab his hand
before it's too late
run hard towards Neverland
before it closes its gate
swim the ocean, sweet girl
who cares if you paddle like a puppy
swim the ocean
but always come back home
dance like Martha or Agnes
before your bones turn brittle
paint a new kind of Mona Lisa
before every face is branded little
tell your mama you love her so
before fate strips you of chances
give your papa a warm, big hug
before cold mists advances
swim the ocean, sweet girl
who cares if you can't float without tiring
swim the ocean
but always come back home
cheer for that sister who longs to win
before she flushes herself in the toilet
hold your brother's hand when it gets rough
before he ends his life with a bullet
play pretend with your lil nephew
before he gets too old
grieve for old friends lost
before hate gets too bold
swim the ocean, sweet girl
who cares if your glides are so unlike a swan
swim the ocean
but always come back home
laugh with your greatest pals
before laughter turns into a cliche
wonder childishly about all things
before age sweeps out your naivete
blow each candle on your birthday cake
before time blows one candle out
love dearly, madly as if tomorrow is the end
before cupid retreats and turns about
swim the ocean, sweet girl
who cares if you'll swim alone
swim the ocean but always come back home
shoot that moon before it gets away
grab those stars
before the sun makes them sway
grab his hand
before it's too late
run hard towards Neverland
before it closes its gate
swim the ocean, sweet girl
who cares if you paddle like a puppy
swim the ocean
but always come back home
dance like Martha or Agnes
before your bones turn brittle
paint a new kind of Mona Lisa
before every face is branded little
tell your mama you love her so
before fate strips you of chances
give your papa a warm, big hug
before cold mists advances
swim the ocean, sweet girl
who cares if you can't float without tiring
swim the ocean
but always come back home
cheer for that sister who longs to win
before she flushes herself in the toilet
hold your brother's hand when it gets rough
before he ends his life with a bullet
play pretend with your lil nephew
before he gets too old
grieve for old friends lost
before hate gets too bold
swim the ocean, sweet girl
who cares if your glides are so unlike a swan
swim the ocean
but always come back home
laugh with your greatest pals
before laughter turns into a cliche
wonder childishly about all things
before age sweeps out your naivete
blow each candle on your birthday cake
before time blows one candle out
love dearly, madly as if tomorrow is the end
before cupid retreats and turns about
swim the ocean, sweet girl
who cares if you'll swim alone
swim the ocean but always come back home
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
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