Thursday, November 25, 2010

to hannibal

it was in your lording demeanor
the studied smile, provoking interrogation
the sweet, gentle, alluring seduction of
your prodding about, feelers strumming,
you, intricately stringing this menagerie,
this beautiful convolution of silence and screams
hewn from my childhood nightmares and
wild heroic dreams. i did not see it coming.
i could never have prepared, for the fall.
as you drew me in deep into enchantment,
intoxicating me with your sedating words,
disarming me of my worldly defenses as
you slowly reached in and ate my brain.

Monday, November 22, 2010

a different kind of run

i'm still smiling from it all, how it was to wake up and have you at first sight. you looked so peaceful, so quiet, so still. it took a bit of my nervousness away. my anxiety left me for a moment there as i imbibed some of your calm. i got ready for my race, and so did you. despite how embarrassing it was that i felt i was inconveniencing you to tag along with my rituals before a run, and how early i had to start doing it (think 1am), you did not complain, you even insisted of coming along, and it made me feel so unworthy to have someone like you. but again, like all things negative that would surge up in me, the feeling did not remain, how could it when all feelings i get from you are all like this, lovely, pleasant, heart-warming. i did not say it then, maybe still feeling a bit shy to admit it, but i relished at the fact that i was sharing something new with you. i have ran many a race before, but none that has tested my endurance like this (and my-GAS, did it test me), and none where i had you. it tickled me... but i had to focus... it was kinda hard to do it though, i have say :)

the pre-race preparations did not prepare me for what came after, as i crossed the finish line, my legs cramping from pain, my torso stiff from spasms, my breathing impeded by the lactic acid drowning my muscles, as i collapsed by the side walk, all i could think about was looking for you... then i saw you, walking slowly towards me, and again, like hours before, all negative emotions left me. you were like anti-kyptonite (though superman, i will never be). you did not mind sitting next to me, your shirt, your pants, soaking in my sweat. you lifted my up, you asked me to lean on you as you walked me to my car. you were literally my staff, well, considering how HUGE i looked against you small frame, you did not complain. i tried to be strong but my body failed me. i was overcome by nausea, and i felt how you tried to lift me up. a smile crawled up my face. my heart was beaming with thankfulness.

the race was how i expected things to be, and then some. i knew i was not going to finish strong. i did not train for it, i was not prepared for it. but in my weakness, i guess, i was made to learn to draw strength from other people. marlon and angelo met me with beaming faces.... then there was you, who's mere presence flushed all my disappointment and pain away.

all races, i think, should finish like this. the medal they hung around my neck was nothing compared to the wreath that was your welcomed embrace. i love you very much.

Friday, November 19, 2010

coffee with cousin panda vurr

maybe it's because of my age, maybe it's because of me knowing how it was to be an ass as well, that now, i can see through people's bullshit, especially when they try to cleverly mask it in flowery words and worse, "good intentions".

i have i have to admit, it took me a long time to develop this sense, how to sniff out genuine remorse, regret and concern from that of mere gestures of drama and empty-reasonings, and i will not deny that part of my keeness is due to the fact that i, too, was once a person who hid in false "good intentions". letting people go softy, was how i termed it, that despite the obvious wreckage of how the situation is unfolding, i tried in my earnest efforts to minimize the damage of the blow. in my head, i was doing good. in my head, i was offering the hurt party a consolation. the over-used "it's not you, it's really me" of course is no longer applicable, so instead, i shower the other party with encouraging words, trying to best pick up the crumbling pieces as they disintegrate before me. how this is different from genuine consoling, well, it's all in the root of the action. despite the seeming selfless, grandiose expressions of being the bigger man, i learned that in the core of my actions was my last ditch efforts at saving face. it was, in its essence, a selfish rather than a selfless move, and i hated myself for it.

i already saw it coming, like how your body seizes before a collision, bracing yourself for the hard blow. the words were the same. the feelings were the same. the circumstances were all too convenient. then i heard the words, and immediately i heard a voice in my head say "you lie." my friend continued on with his tale, and i continued on to intently listen, trying my best to hide my reactions. his tale was a sad one, a sorry one to say the least, made more regretful for he indeed is such a beautiful soul, only to keep finding himself in rather despicable company. his teary eyes exposed his hurt, even if he bravely tried to conceal them, the hurt of being left behind, the hurt of being rejected, the hurt of being betrayed. he was betrayed my his own longings. he was betrayed by people whom he thought had his well being in heart.

i guess, this is common among people who see themselves with little value. how i understand this very well. how i once craved for validation from others, how it was a horror to fail, how i had to be great, exemplary, spectacular in order to be accepted as normal and in the same leagues as other well-accepted, great people... who, now that i think about it, are really not all that great after all. i made myself easy prey, not really to predators, that would have been a better pill to swallow, but to equally fractured people who find my handicapped self-image complimentary to their own insecurities. i allowed myself to become a footstool. what was even more sorry was that i enjoyed it. i relished that i was being used. it gave me purpose. it made me, though indirectly feel, that i mattered, that i existed, and once these parasitical parties have had their way with me and cast me by the way side, leaving me with their beautiful goodbyes, i find myself depleted, dry, left to fend for myself when the vultures come to hover over my dying soul.

so i stopped being like that. so i stopped feeling sorry for myself all the time, for constantly thinking i will never be good enough. so i began telling myself that i am, not even great, but that I AM NORMAL. I AM OK. I AM EVEN FAR FROM OK, I AM FINE. i am no different from anyone else. i have flaws, i make mistakes, i am imperfect, but so is everyone else, and that is perfectly ok. i may not be the most beautiful, the richest, the most eloquent, the most successful, the smartest, but that's ok. i do my best, and as long as i act within the measure i was given, then i am maximizing my potential.

i convinced myself of this, and slowly, through a lot of stumbling and a lot of struggle, i think i am much better now. my insecurities no longer fuel my need for people to accept me. i learned to celebrate my flaws and celebrate other people's flaws as well. i am thankful of my strengths and hope to exercise them more, to better myself and others. i strive to be good, because that is really the only way. i also try to distance myself from the usual vampires as it will be too easy to fall back still to my old ways. everyday is an exercise, i guess, to be able to live a happy, content life. i am by far, nowhere near perfection in my practice, but even that is fine.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

morning vomit

poetry, it seems, comes easy
when authors have fallen in love.
words become utterly cheesy-
mushy, like light feathers of doves.
it can, alas, be sickening,
like vomit building up inside;
like the splat of all things nasty,
when the hard ground and you collide.
this has to stop, and end soon, please!
for authors can't function like this.
we need drama, pain, agony,
not drown in unspeakable bliss.
o, the torture it leaves us all
to be bound by such strong feelings:
of unicorns and honey-bears;
of pink, fluffy imaginings.
gone are the days of great grey gloom,
of thunderclouds and heavy skies.
all things now are in sanguine hues,
for my heart now in your hand lies.

MY GAD.... ANG CHEESY!!!!!!!

i love you, kapampangan quezo! :)

Monday, November 15, 2010

the fear

there's a certain type of fear that grows within the heart of man, once transcendental bliss is achieved. ironically, it appears when it seems all obstacles are surmountable and all barriers can be broken. in a way, i believe, it is good to fear even when you feel that there is none. it grounds you, it anchors you to some semblance of truth, rather than have you just simply float away.

wisdom, a proverb said, comes from fear, and in my case, my wisdom reminds me to tread the road of my days with care. hastiness can only lead to looseness, and looseness to many mistakes... some, i would never want to commit, especially when it would harm you, my beloved.

but here lies the challenge for me, though once upon a time, i feared for many things, for many possible mistakes, for many iniquities that may be, for many offenses that could come, around you however, i find that i fear none, and it worries me sometimes. i worry, maybe, because i could have lost all grip of reality now, too blinded with the sheer emotions of my affection for you. i worry, maybe because, in my over-thinking, i could be not mindful of my actions, not sensitive to your needs, not aware of your sentiments, your thoughts, your words, your actions, and that in my drunkeness and poor judgment, that i fall in love with the selfish euphoria of being in love instead, rather than the divine experience of simply loving you... which i do.

the fear comes from my failure to surrender. it stems from my need to control my environment, my destiny. i fear nothing when i am around you, and even if i tried to, the fear would not stay, because the day you came into my life, i unknowingly relinquished all control of my fate. i had been hoodwinked. i had been deceived by my Master. i had been distracted from my obsessive hold, and in the loosening of my strong grip on the reins of my life, He graciously slipped you in to my hands instead.

i fear none, because you were given to me. i fear none because my faith empowers me to believe that you were given to me, because i can take good care of you. i fear none because you make me fear none, because that is how strong you make me. you are my courage and my faith to my God, personified.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

the simple answer

i am finding it starting to frustrate me, now on my nth try, how i am finding it utterly difficult to construct good, not even aiming for spectacular, sentences to describe how i feel. it is frustrating since, not just too long ago, it was so easy to put into words how horrible i would feel, or how agitating my days were, or how sad it was to be me. now that i am practically overwhelmed in unspeakable joy, words, after all these years that they have been faithful to me, suddenly, fail me.

i am frustrated because i cannot tell you how thankful i am, that i cannot embrace you with the tenderness that i feel in my writing, the passion, the compassion, the love, that effortlessly wells up within me at every thought of you. i am frustrated because it was through my words that i was able to once express myself, and yet now, could find none that could even come close to describe what i feel for you. i would love to declare, to profess, to confess, to shout, but alas, the muses refuse to budge, and i am left speechless, constipated, rendered impotent in my extreme efforts to write about my intense feelings for you...

and then, one morning, in my stubborn efforts to attempt at another post, something short of wonderful dawned on me, and it made me not try so hard anymore. it said, love is gentle, love is simple, and i found myself agreeing wholeheartedly. i have, i guess been so used to the whole theatrical production of presenting my emotions, poofing it up to exponential levels, just to validated my inflated and inflamed ego, but now that i have been served by something so pure, my soul just could not accept how beautiful something so simple could be... because that is what you are. you are simple. you are beautiful, just like how love was created to be. so here i am, professing again, but this time, with no effort whatsoever. i profess that i love you, and that i love you with all that word entails. it carries all my good intentions. it bears all that is good within me. it tells you that i will love you with the love you deserve, with the love that my God gives me. it says that i would cherish you and your person, that i would celebrate you in your flaws and in your strengths, for my love does not discriminate. i will love you with the simplest of desires, that i will not expect much, anticipate much, for i have all that i need for it is already sustained by your love for me.

loving you, my beloved, i realized, is easy, and it was why i knew it was you. it was only you. loving you is as effortless as breathing, even if it means gasping for air as i willingly drown in you.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

all over again

no stars aligned, nor the universe conspired, only a stillness happened, a wonderful quiet, sustained by two people lost in each others gaze. and while we lingered in that tender, blissful moment, when in our utterances we both failed, when meaning could find no words, i, if you would permit me to be selfish once more, found myself falling again in love with you, for how could i not, when loving you all over again, it seems, was all i could do.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

the final rebellion

it was the quiet before the storm, the anxious stillness before the war. the horizon bore the weight of a palpable charge, the surge brought about by the fury and rampage of ten thousand men. galloping hooves echoed in the distance, reverberating in a moving wall of dust, mashed with the rolling thunder of chariot wheels riding across the arid desert land. the skies glowed in an eerie crimson, a premonition, a frightful banner held up by posts of feeble sunlight, the great sun cowering behind lofty clouds, too fearful too of beholding the impending slaughter. the air was thick, the winds fell flat, God's breath held in in anticipation. they finally come, and they arrived in their forceful, terrible might.

the earth trembled under their heavy feet. she groaned in agony, screaming under their relentless badgering. the howling voices of thousands over thousands tore across the barren land, the clamoring of wild men for blood and death, sweeping over the wide expanse like a breeding, devouring plague. their hunger for violence was insatiable, fuel by a lust a millennium in the making. they came with their horses, their chariots, wielding their unsheathe weapons of destruction. they were clad in their armor of metal and hide, sporting helmets, dented and blood-stained. they cried to threat and charged with drunken pride, taunting, advancing, drawing closer and closer to their prize.

he stood there, alone, upon his high place, his demeanor stoic, his composure unfazed. he listened quietly to the earth's voices shouting out for vengeance, imploring justice, invoking his righteousness. the souls of millions cried out from their place, where their innocent blood soaked the ground, where the fertile soil covered their broken bodies, these lives this evil had destroyed, the generations this evil had denied. he took a step down from his station and firmly set his feet on a rock. he then set his sights down to the valley, now teeming with men, their weapons glistening in the sunbeam, the rumble of their legion roaring up the walls of the rocky cauldron. they had come for him. they want him. they will stop at nothing until he has been put down. this was their final rebellion.

the wind whispered quietly in his ear, a light breeze kissed him in the cheek. he robed himself in golden sunlight, and took his staff in his hand. the army below went on a frenzy for here, here he comes now, like meat about to be thrown into a den of ravenous beasts. he took a long breath in and closed his eyes, hand firmly on his staff. he struck the ground and gave a commanding shout, his voice bellowed, traveling to the edges of the world. the army's resounding cries fell mute as their former vigor fled from them. for once, the seed of panic began to grow among them. he struck his staff again onto the ground and cried, his voice like the pounding of a drum. war was being waged by a lone man onto a legion of thousands and yet none now would take a step towards him. he struck the ground a third time and shouted, his voice swept over the valley floor like a crashing wave rushing out. the army now found itself slowly sinking it in mortal fear.

a new, different kind of rumbling could now be heard from the distance, a disturbance cutting though the nervous quiet from the valley below. men looked at men, throwing tense glances upon each other. who is this person? what is happening? the rumbling grew stronger, the sound of a thrashing, maddened hoard hearkening the call of their one master. the sound came from all directions, its force pushing against the thick air pushing against the rocky terrain pushing against, now, deathly calm men.

he stood there upon his high place, his staff at hand, his robe washed in light of the sun. he waited. it won't be long now. the valley will be sealed. the terror will be contained. this will all end soon and the earth will finally be appeased. this is their final rebellion.