trade baby blues for wide eyed browns

Tue, 16 Nov 2010 12:53:28 GMT

i have trouble breathing sometimes, and i fight back tears that are going to be the end of me. this is weakness at it's strongest which is kind of weird when you think about it- if you can even think anymore. worst day ever topped off by heartless displays of no restraint and words slung at open wounds. i guess its my own fault for leaving myself open. everyone wins and i don't care because i'm done trying to. i never made my whole life a game, and maybe if i had i'd be more successful at it.

i told you i don't want you anymore so stop trying to push me away more- i'm gone. and so are you as far as i am concerned. leave me alone. you only make things worse when i thought they were as bad as they could get. seek help.

time is all i've got and i'm running out of it by my own will- if this is 'time' then i want to sleep past it. lies are what you imagine and excuses never seem to run out.

i love you and you and you. but is this ever enough to keep going? i'm calling in sick (of myself) tomorrow.

love isnt a word to throw around like a baseball until you break someones window/heart- take a time out until youre too old enough to play the game. you cant blackmail your way into forever. pick up the pieces that i made fall apart from your grand scheme and put them back together in a different way. youll see youre better off in the deep end.

Don't Criticize What You Don't Understand.

Wed, 04 Aug 2010 10:40:18 GMT

Everything is so indecisive.
Even the weather cannot determine the best course of action.
This morning the sun shone as if summer were making a comeback,
Only to be shrouded by steel-wool clouds saturated with water.

We're painting poetry in the back of the submerged car.
Submerged under smoke, under rain.
Light blue still creaks from the sky,
In the making for our faces even more beautiful.

Sometimes I don't want you anymore but I hope we live this out.

I'm in a slump

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 15:44:55 GMT

It would seem so few people understand human frailties. I see them always. My heart twists itself into a knot because I can't stand to see others be so oblivious to them, just speak or act so uncaringly and not even conceive a notion that it might be possible that they are having more effect upon something than they tried to.

It is not often that I am not aware of it when someone is uncomfortable or bothered by somebody's actions or words or uneasy with their own things. Often I want to speak up and tell them that it is alright, though I worry that I might be mistaken or catch them off guard and only make it worse or confuse them and they'll think I'm awfully strange.

Everybody already thinks I'm awfully strange.

But I can't help it, I see everything. I am so aware of every simple intimacy, every certain regard in a direction, every faltering deep inside of eyes, every tone of voice, shade of light, movement of wind, motion of limbs. Nobody knows. I wish everyone could see things the way I see them just for a little while. They would understand then

I hate days like these. They get me down.
I put all my feelings into art. Although ugly, but art nonetheless.
I haven't done this in ages.

But tomorrow will be the day it will all turn around. I just know it.
Things are lovely if we let them.

If anyone still actually reads this darn LJ, give me new music to listen to. Preferably anything like Passion Pit, Le Roux, Walter Meego & Glasser... Or, better yet, surprise me.

Moonshadow.

Fri, 27 Nov 2009 14:44:24 GMT

I want to run through the woods and fill my lungs to bursting with crisp, fresh air and laughter and whisper melodies to butterflies and get all muddy and not mind at all and fall asleep under the trees, drunk from the smell of leaves and earth, and wake up in the sun, under a clear autumn sky. And you're the only other equally frivolous soul that would be down with me.

(Just an observation, all the people on Livejournal disappeared. Oh why?)

I'm gonna love you more than anyone

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 15:09:15 GMT

Cause there's really no one I'd rather be mad at, annoy or be annoyed by.

The ones who mind don't matter.

Fri, 07 Aug 2009 02:25:37 GMT

Painting poetry in the back of the submerged car
Submerged under smoke, under rain
Light blue still creaks from the sky
In the making for our faces even more beautiful
I hope we live this out.

I am.
Going.
Somewhere.
Beautiful.

Even if it's only in my mind.

soul animals

Fri, 17 Jul 2009 09:58:45 GMT

I had forgotten the dull little stars wrapped in
red gift paper and Satan's men
ironing my clothes while I slept.
I tried to be grand for it, but my heart's
a city park: there's nothing anybody
does but lunch
by the broken
carousel, swing from twisted
limbs, copy Vivaldi, lean
forward, and fall
in love while I simply observe.

Yours are the rounded fingertips of
everyone I know, mooneyed,
starlucky, soul-animals, pale, nearly invisible,
warning ourselves, overnight, very whitely,
discreetly, our heels and our hammers.
The day melts and I lean forward,
lean back into the white part of a new soul,
and I think I can feel everything.

You overuse the future tense, immense
and gentle, and try to get me to
iron my own clothes, to stay put.
The little laburnum outside the big
window that cries and embellishes
nighttime shadows, it's cursed and
watching, even though you always said
you never noticed it. Maybe
it's the lack of mirrors, the laziness
of time and the way the end
of
the
street
just
swallows
it
while you aren't looking.

"because of the hormonal imbalance you made me tear up," too.

Wed, 08 Jul 2009 11:50:02 GMT

My slumber is a storm. It is a poet with the dreams of speaking the language of the city, it is summer's footprints whitewashed off the walls, it is a concrete face and a film about incest that drags on for far too long. The light swings away from my face and I do not believe in warmth any longer. The strange shape of my soul extends its hands and memories outweigh words; the meaninglessness of lucidity opens my mouth for me, and all I can speak of is the brilliance of death. If I had piano keys for limbs, I think, then she would find it so much easier to talk to me.

The window is slowly turning different colors. Here there is a silly different something pounding in me, not possibly a heart. A heart couldn't possibly thrive in me, you see. My cheeks would be damask and perfect if I had a heart. It is promises, perhaps, tied in a tidy bundle with brown packaging string, teetering on the windowsill. Or it is a teeny tiny glowing flushing war, hanging on the window, knocking against it as a door slams.

It is sad that I don't know you anymore.

we're all looking for something to write about

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 07:05:05 GMT

I consume these red days and their dirty thirsts with Venusian vigor, so you mustn't say I am not trying to improve. It's those horrible peacocks of girls that lift their dresses instead of thinking, lips swelling and eyes falling, those you must worry about. All those handsome disabilities of theirs creep the sky, and the wind becomes nicotine, addicting me remorselessly to autumn. Oh most fruitfully I've found a way to blame every scalding misinterpretation on some force of nature. I couldn't possibly keep all of these premonitions to myself, you know, I must spread them like counterfeit pennies. You need fistfuls of me, charming boy, even if these fistfuls don't mean a thing, even if I am shaving seconds off your lifespan and tucking them in a homesewn pocket on the back of every dress I've got. I've had enough of relying on kisses from the morbid neighbor, rolling around in my head by myself, fighting with figments of your imagination, and waiting outside the art gallery in the rain. My sweater clung to me and I clung to the vaguelettes and puddles moving secretly towards the gutters. I made small rhymes to pass the time, waiting for you and toying with that change you embedded but so often have forgotten to restore.

Now stepping out of the fantasy world I've built in my head, school has started yet again. This week has marked the beginning of the last two years I have in the hell hole that is the Ateneo. Maybe not hell, exactly, because I quite love a few of the people walking around there. Looking back at Orsem, that I remember quite perfectly, I never thought I'd get along with the people I do now. The past summer has made me closer to quite a few people. Thank the Lord for our endless trips to the land of saltwater & garter snake filled pools, the treehouse with the hot brother, marco polo pool games, no-judging-no-matter-whats, COTs, Uncle Moe's, Ate Jhilette and fuzzy ducks.

Remember: NO LEAVING, NO MATTER WHAT <3
thisyearscaresme.

"remember when i tricked you into falling in love (with) Paris?"

Sat, 06 Jun 2009 06:14:40 GMT

Starting today we are away, some distant location kept secret. This place and its wind, you see, keep me up past my bedtime quite often, reminiscing of fine childhood nights with my face pressed against my father's silk Windsor ties, staring into his shoes and keeping their shine for later stages of imagination. My face, pressed against the screen, attempting to distinguish stars from lights on hills, from helicopters and other universes. It is warm here, so very warm, and we arrived in sweaters and scarves. Some funny vodka concoction with loads of rose petals in it is waiting on the veranda.

Paris, after some time, grew to be wordless, seedy, a secret. It is everything New York is not, in the most subtly pitiful way. I still adore it.-

Tell me of your favorite place in the entire world.

I'm usually not too fond of old people

Thu, 04 Jun 2009 12:21:56 GMT

an old couple looking at an exhibit at musee d'orsay.
paris 2009

love is just a high.
i think it only truly lasts for the luckiest of people.

Paris Glows

Wed, 03 Jun 2009 12:16:22 GMT

This is my favorite place in the whole of Paris, the Pont des Arts, the footbridge above the Seine is where I would watch my sundown for seven glorious days. I saw the same thing from my bedroom window.

I'm not even lying, the Louvre was my backyard/ frontyard. Depending how you look at it.

Notre Dame was 3 minutes away.

Yes, I am aware I can't take yellow-lit photos. I'm working on my coloring skills still.

i am sick of this town

Sun, 31 May 2009 03:10:53 GMT

Chateau de Versailles
France 2009

(yes, i have been obsessed with blue/green hues lately)

Offtopic: Maybe you need to be depressed to write well/ decently. I don't know.

First morning thought

Fri, 22 May 2009 01:17:14 GMT

"I hope you think of me every now and then."

I'm not okay, you wear me out

Sun, 10 May 2009 11:21:52 GMT

Please, somebody... Please, anybody at all. I need to know that life is not just a constantly repeating cycle of transient hope and contentment to then be devoured wholly by the sight of your world falling bit by meaningless bit from the sky. Everything always gets better, I know, I know... and then it all fucking falls apart. Again and again, irrefutably. Will anyone ever just be happy? Is anyone great enough to be let at peace? All that I want is to be okay. Even if it is all meaningless.

I stood in the exact same spot two years ago, and you still have the same effect on me.
Take what you want, leave me hanging.
I should know better by now.

Here's A Night, And It Shines

Sun, 05 Apr 2009 13:13:03 GMT

Sunday morning feels a little like peace and it feels a little like nothing.

The night before started rough and dull but ended perfectly. Despite the accident caused by an idiot, the hospital rush and the commotion, they ones that stayed made it all worthwhile. We lay in the green grass, pushing back the sunrise as far as we can. Sirens and shouts of laughter burst through the windows, softly rattling our ribcages, gently tickling our hearts, as the hours of the night tiptoe on like worrisome thieves across the floors, afraid someone would notice that they have all quietly stolen the sunlight from the sky, replacing it with the most opulent darkness, rich as buttermilk. Their muffled footsteps embrace all of your sweet words, ones that have cluttered inside of your throat, ones that have escaped from the inside of your palms, ones that flutter like sparrows all around us. The streetlights flicker, and I can see the moonlight, dripping from the tip of your nose and onto your curved lips. I can see the stardust, dancing off the windowsill, snapping their fingers, then coming to gather like snowflakes upon your lashes, illumianting the darkness.

You are my beautiful lyricist, my unrestrained poet, with quiet words like stardust scooped up from your pockets and scattered carefully into your sleepy eyes. I see them sometimes, all of them, revolving like planets on invisible shoestrings, dancing off their velvet rug late at night, snapping their fingers in perfect rhythm as spirals and comets of you crumble like fireworks all around them, anyone else oblivious to their discreet movements.

Happy Birthday :)

Wed, 25 Feb 2009 15:41:35 GMT

I just want to make love to paper with my pen, my words and my thoughts, but I cannot function in this ghost town. I cannot think. I shake, and I cower, and spend far too much time tangled in my bed sheets, waiting. Just a few more months, just a few more months, just a few more months. My thoughts are all over the place...

I am flawed because I am not free.
I am infinitely craving to be alive.

Instead of pondering on how much I failed that test, I decided to walk around Ateneo by myself and I did not feel the slightest bit alone. Ateneo is at its finest after the sun has died down. It made me realize that I would like to live in a world where the sky is just like watercolor and the stars are touchable.

(I've noticed i've been flooding my journal and I'm starting to feel bad about friend pages. Cause I would be annoyed with myself if I was my own friend... If that made sense. Anyway, I have an account on a different blogring thing. Hit me if you have other blogs. Or not. Fuck man, I have nothing to do but blog.)

The End Will Justify The Pain It Took Us To Get There

Sat, 03 May 2008 18:47:36 GMT

I'm breathing and I'm dreaming and my emotions continue to chase themselves around in circles, but somehow it feels okay. The rain is not offending me today because my bones are still warm.

As we're six feet under the stars, we can keep breathing in & out from water pipes. Our hands intertwined as we walk on deserted streets. Then we'll watch the city sleep in the middle of parking lots. And our old teenage hopes have come to life once again.

You world, have flipped me upside down, spun me around in circles until I didn't know which direction to go, and shook up so good that its hard to tell where I ended up. I have to admit though, its been a good, yet crazy, adventure. You've left me with independence still left to find and heart still left to give. I'm breaking down the walls in my mind at an alarming rate. About the time I realized all this was happening was when I realized. I realized that I am okay. People are still crazy, but they are okay. Life.... Life is okay.

This is what it is, though it may not sound logical, it makes sense to me.

Sorry for the jumbled words and fragments. It's almost 3 and my mind is running a thousand miles an hour.

I'll probably change my mind tomorrow, but for now I'll stick to this.

P.S. I love you to death, Marivic Genuino. :)

For Tonight.

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 15:48:52 GMT

Its the silver moonlight and the earth and the wind. Breezing by, crying to come in, through city roads, green street signs, detours. Its as far away from here as we can get tonight. Swallow the season and eat up the kisses from the moon. The season has changed, like everything else. But these friends of change have rhythm and rhyme and sometimes, you don't know where they're going.

Tonight I can see all the stars in the sky. City lights fool you into thinking they're just as promising and bright, but nothing will ever shine like how the stars did tonight. Lucky stars.

So my lucky star fragments will lie in the simplest things. In silly post-it notes, planner drawings, and prose. With lines about boxing bags, swings, and semi-forgotten drunken self confessions. In talking about senseless things, but finding its purpose. In talking of the ordinary and making it something else. In things that originally had no reason but have been filled with nostalgia. I guess I'll take it as it is, but for now...

Smiling, smiling, smiling till the day is done.

I can't stop smiling.
Just for tonight.
I'll start worrying about it tomorrow cause it could mean something else or even nothing.

cultivated idiocy

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 23:50:53 GMT

And new faces held the same as old dull patterns, and what was I hoping for this time? I would dream about sleeping on rooftops and marvelling at stars falling to the ground, and about liquor-numbed lips. The envelopes wore red stripes. I do not trust these days.

fuck it.

people rise together

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 05:33:18 GMT

i'll rise with a roar, rant, rage

Sun, 22 Jul 2007 09:43:38 GMT

some people never go crazy.
me, sometimes I'll lie down behind the couch
for 3 or 4 days.
they'll find me there.
it's Cherub, they'll say, and
they pour wine down my throat
rub my chest
sprinkle me with oils.

then, I'll rise with a roar,
rant, rage -
curse them and the universe
as I send them scattering over the
lawn.
I'll feel much better,
sit down to toast and eggs,
hum a little tune,
suddenly become as lovable as a
pink
overfed whale.

some people never go crazy.
what truly horrible lives
they must lead.

-Charles Bukowski

the tragedy of human condition

Wed, 30 May 2007 11:05:25 GMT

"This fall I think you're riding for - it's a special kind of fall, a horrible kind. The man falling isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave it up before they ever really even got started."

oh, the places you'll go

Fri, 23 Mar 2007 13:10:04 GMT

"Congratulations, today is your day. You're off to great place, you're off and away. You have brains in your head, you have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the guy who'll decide where to go. You'll look up and down streets, look them over with care. About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there." With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street. And you may not find any you'll want to go down, in that case, of course, you'll head straight out of town. It's opener there, in the wide open air. Out there things can happen, and frequently do, to people as brainy and footsy as you. And when things start to happen, don't worry, don't stew. Just go right along, you'll start happening too. Oh, the places you'll go."

-Dr Seuss

Friends Only, Mofos!!!

Wed, 18 Aug 2004 11:56:31 GMT

FRIENDS ONLY!!!

(actually no, my juicy entries are 'friends only'. i have some random public entries. but wouldnt you wanna read the juicy entries?? lol.)

comment to be added.