the seventh act/post-encore

i am writing this at 1 in the morning

i cannot sleep, there are exams and other activities pending tomorrow but i need to write this as a way to dissipate these emotions that i feel: anger and sadness and guilt

there is something like this pending about a few hours from now but for some reason, you decided to tell me all of these today (last night)

goodness, it is fucking exhausting.

 

you asked me: what are we?

and i told you the obvious truth, of course we are friends–

despite having done all that because it does not make sense to re-establish the attachment i have for you,

i am in deep emotional attachment for someone else, i cannot have too much attachment at once

also, i am physically attached to you and with good reason:

firsts happened in nine hours

i am appalled

shocked

dazed and confused

why is this happening

: the thoughts going over my head while IT is happening

still, you told me that i should not be romantically attached

and it is okay, because i am certain that i am not

you told me that all the carnal should stop

but i can still stay in your room

i obliged

because we are friends, why should i not?

 

but

the thing that has angered me was when you told me that you also did THIS with another person

to be honest, i do not really care that much

you are yourself, you do what you want to do

but

you know how i feel about this

this whole thing

and why it is special

and why do i feel this way

because it is important to me.

because i trusted you.

i kissed you even when i do not know what to do

or what is happening

because i trusted you.

 

and now you are going to tell me that you were with someone else the day after i left?

and now you are going to tell me that he did the same thing i did a week after?

and now you are going to tell me that i was your constant, i was a friend?

i know that friends do not sleep in another’s bed

i know that friends do not kiss

nor get intimate

but you get what i mean, you know why WE are important

i am not begging you to tell me what is happening to you when it comes to those

but please–

respect the memory

 

now, every time i recall those nine hours

i see a different man

it is not me

it is not me

it is not fucking me and i fucking hate it

i know we are not together

i know, i have established that since then

but the memory feels cheated

it feels tainted

the sentimental self is breaking into pieces

 

you know that i despise the act of cheating

but in one way or another,

you did.

i cannot be angry with you for long,

and as i am writing now,

the anger disappears

and the sadness looms

 

because you are the only person that is going to hug me when i sleep

you are the only person who is going to rub my hair as we cuddle

you are the only person who is going to touch my cheeks lovingly

the only person who bears kissing me multiple times

not letting go when i have to go

the one i felt confident with

 

i can be friends with anyone else, some, even greater than the one we have

but yours is special not just because of the intimacy

but because i feel free

and now i don’t

because i feel like the months we have been together is disposable

and now i am sad

A First/Epiphanies on Six Acts (091718)

I.

sitting in the bus

waiting for this to go because I know that I will be in trouble for staying the night for too long

I thought we put an end on it,

finalized,

closed,

thus I became oversentimental of everything

immediately tomorrow that night

was the day I will see you for the first time,

trying not to assume anything, lowering expectations

(but let us not kid here, I wanted it, I just know it is a blur)

and here we are, in the same room

tenSION in the air

looming

we say goodbyes

anti-climactic

realized that putting all those build-up from seven months

that less than five minutes spending with you is a fucking joke

so I tried to reach out,

and we did

II.

trying to find the fastest way to get to you

circled around the whole lot

it is ten p.m.

I need to go back soon, shouldn’t I?

but I am stubborn,

I want to see you.

I NEED to see you.

and after more than half an hour,

decided I will take the short way to you

and so I did.

III.

INT. EVENING. Your Room

we say hi and hellos

awkwardness

tension

still, we anchor from seven months, we ought to have something

and we did!

how do we spend the time in less than an hour?

watch films, listen to music, eat cheesedogs

I told you from the start that I am here for cuddles and I laugh,

I keep trying,

and you accepted it

my arms around you;

fingers easily intertwining despite my damp palms;

your head made my body its pillow;

our cheeks touching together,

I was comfortable with it,

you were too

it is fine

IV.

it is time to sleep

I already accepted the fact that I will not be going home anytime soon,

so we slept—

or at least we tried

i told you about random stories of bands and Youtube videos

I cannot sleep,

you cannot too

you are giving me hints that I was not entirely oblivious about but decided not to because what if i am assuming wrong?

spent more or less than half an hour looking at each other’s eyes, our faces touching

our lips already touched each others’ cheeks and forehead

one thing was missing,

you have been hinting,

I keep thinking,

“Is this even the right time?”

a peck,

and you went for it

it was sloppy but not manufacturing

I needed to breathe,

and dove once again

I cannot believe I am doing this,

I was being rational a few seconds ago and now I’m kissing someone’s face

breathes

stops

“I was sloppy.”

I know.

she said it’s okay,

but i am ashamed

still tried

and tried

with pauses on breathing

switched positions

and tried to sleep

V.

five am

I am on your bed

I am wearing your clothes

morning

we spent the night in deep caresses

criss-crossing legs

holding hands

butterfly kisses

and now we are awake

you fought with yourself over sleeping and not sleeping after making us breakfast

you slept,

you woke up

i planted kisses once again

i did what i wanted to do, what i told you earlier

you became inquisitive

i said yes

full throttle

articles of clothing flying everywhere

pillows and cellphones are being pushed to the floor

the bedsheet needs fixing again

butterfly kisses all over

no need for diving kits,

snorkled my way in

(if ever you are going to do it,

fucking commit)

traversed wherever I can go

asked you multiple times

stop

exchange of pleasure

rolled over

foreign feelings

(lowkey impressed with myself)

boom

stop

water break

panting

exchange

I scoured through the depths once again

I am a disappointment this time

slowly freaking out

encouraged her, to no avail

still, I tried to do

I tried to be good

I tried nonetheless.

VI.

water splashing

quiet

brushed hair

I am exerting much effort again,

she’s disappointed, I know

still,

over the rainshower

we stayed

got out

she does not want me to go

I need to go,

I overstayed my welcome

I disappointed her,

(hopefully though I did not even though I know I did)

still it was nice.

we gone down

I left,

when will I see her again once more?

Would the wonders of ones and zeroes be back?

Or is the risky, material world better?

[Encore.]

Now thinking whether it was the right thing to do. I sometimes hate being rational (though I am very emotional) because I think too much.

I was doing it with her, I was thinking about her while the whole thing is happening.

Yet, when she had slept—my arms around her and hers around me—there was someone else.

Epiphanies.

Afterwords.

Alternate endings.

What could have beens.

Considering how I believed on such a complicated standard on defining firsts,

I did, that was it,

And I liked it.

I like it.

But do we hurt people because of what we like?

Or is it hypocritical even?

[Exit stage.]

[FIN.]

09 Sept 2017: can someone teach me how to be a constant

23:21

I just got home from a really fun trip with friends, a good stress reliever to end the week. Many things happened (or did not)–well, we just ate and sang in a karaoke bar.

But that’s not really the thing that I have been wanting to write for the longest time, I am writing this at 11pm just because the thought has already bothered me so much that I have to write this as I have been holding this for the longest time.

Have you wished, even just one time, that you have a person that is always beside you?

It’s a struggle that I have for a long time already. i just can’t seem to find one, or even let fate decide to give me one and it is so frustrating that i hate the feeling of non-belongingness so much

tonight triggered this suppressed anxiety once again

the thought that no person would stay with me hurts, i mean i do not need you to be with me 24/7 or something like that but i would like to have someone who i can tell stuff on the fly

someone who wants to talk to me about anything in general, if you know me personally, you know i talk a lot like a lot despite my introversion

and that is why i am anxious most of the time of annoying people that i think that will lead to them hating me and not wanting to talk to me and i can’t live with that and i hate it what the fuck

i do talk to people constantly, i mean as of this present moment i may have a few people that i talk to often

but it always sinks in to me (especially just a few hours ago) that i was never someone’s priority in the first place

i don’t want to know all your inside jokes with anyone else but i would be really glad if you tell me (but you don’t need to, it’s okay i promise)

i don’t care if you will not treat me to dinner or a movie or a venti-sized starbucks frappe, i just want to know that you think of me when you think of something like that

i don’t want you to call me every now and then, but i wouldn’t mind receiving someone’s call at 2am even if it wakes up my roommate

i don’t care if you drunk text me out of the blue, but i am sure as hell will reply to you regardless if i’m drinking too or not

i just want to be someone’s priority, i don’t care if we’re romantically involved or just have a platonic relationship i do not really give a fuck because what i want is a person, a constant person in my life

you may have other people of course i am not that kind of person i try to be non-toxic most of the time i despise that shit, but if you wouldn’t mind knowing people, of course i also wouldn’t mind

now i am thinking that my idea of people being my bestfriends is slowly turning into a pile of bullshit

i love people

but isn’t bestfriendship supposed to be constant

a high-maintenance relationship is not what i am searching for, i just want someone who will be there for me

someone who cares

and now this idea goes to my mind again

that if i die

get run over by a car or get shot at the head by a riding-in-tandem

would they cry

because i have been living a life for the longest time that no one would care for me constantly

well if they do, then they aren’t vocal as fuck

i know that some people are not vocal

but if they care about me, they would try

fuck i am so demanding i am sorry

i am sorry for demanding too much

no one would care for me if i’m like this

fuck

i’ll die alone then

what a fun life

i just need hugs

can someone please hug me

or kiss me on my forehead i wouldn’t mind

i just need comfort

that someone will be there for me soon

it may look like i am not contented with the people i have now

sad truth

i am not contented

because no one is constant

i don’t have someone to talk to if i need someone to talk to

or i may have

but i am afraid that i would annoy them, trying to wake them up at 3 am while they are sleeping and then they’ll tell me why the fuck i am texting them at 3 am they are sleeping they need to rest their tired bodies

will someone love me wholly

how would i know if i’m like this

no one would love a fucked-up person demanding for attention and care

lol who am i kidding why am i writing like this

again

i’m dying alone who cares

good night

Waking up from a good night sleep.

I was not really a huge fan of sleep. As someone who mostly spends his days looking at a screen or talking to people (which is exhausting at most), I may have seen sleeping as a filler on our lives. A phase of inactivity, resting our tired bodies.

I never knew that sleep could be this good.

I never knew that sleep could be this good until I have slept with a few people. Just sleep, no traces of sex and maybe (a few) traces of alcohol.

Most of the people I’ve slept with are girls (if not all). First, I thought, “Damn, this can be pretty awkward”, but thinking about how my relationship with these people led me into not giving any unnecessary attention to it at all.

Sleeping with another person is a weird feeling at first–or maybe it is just me–knowing that I am in constant deprivation of physicality (just physicality, not being naughty or what).

Human heat is a fucking blessing. The familiar warmth of another person (regardless of who’s the person) makes you want to stay there forever. It really makes you want to cuddle the person you’re with (if s/he would let you), maybe a hug from behind.

My moments with different people with just sleeping made me realize that sleeping with someone is intimate at most. There are times that I slept with that I’ll just wake up looking at their fluttering eyes with a slight hint of smile on their faces. Sometimes it makes me wonder, “What are they dreaming of?”.

I remember one of the times when the person I like and I slept on the same bed. It was not romantic at most, it was just peaceful. Seeing the one you love sleeping in tranquility, beside you, your faces inches away from each other, damn, now that is a good feeling.

(I may or may not have written that last paragraph in the most romantic way I possibly can.)

Also, waking up with someone beside you is also one of the best feelings ever! As I said earlier, human heat is a blessing; knowing that another person just slept beside you, warm and breathing, makes everything worthwhile (regardless of how warm or cold it is).

Not just that(!), but also if you are the first person that they see when they open their eyes? (Okay, I’m being too romantic, but you see my point? It’s good.)

In conclusion, sleeping with someone is one of the best things ever, it can also give you a good night sleep. Sadly, if you do not have someone to sleep with, there will come a time that you will crave for a familiar warm spot in your bed and that is going to be sad as you try to remember the times that there is someone beside you.

Goodness, how I want to sleep with someone right now. It is so damn cold here.

 

2017 Entry 5: Wings

Wow, two blog posts in two days, vacation’s really here, eh?

I still do not know what to write, to rant about, so I am just posting some of my poems which I had made throughout the past few months during the semester.

This semester is fucking shit, I must admit.

All of us are exhausted with our academics and our personal lives.

Goodness, it is damn tiring.

Either way, I really do not remember the context on why I have written another depressing poem. What I just remember is this was written on another dark phase, just a short one–thankfully.

---

When I was a kid, I always wished to be an angel

Someone who has wings and can fly

Years has come and gone, yet

All I still have are these two damn feet

Which always keeps falling and tripping me

These two

Damn

Feet

Fucking

Sucks

Why do I still not have the wings I have wished for?

I was a good person, wasn’t I?

The need to escape from this cage

Has been bothering me for a while now

I need to escape

To be free

But these two

Damn

Feet

Fucking

Sucks

Why haven’t I learned how to climb?

And then I thought that cage was not bad enough

I was pulled through the depths of hell

The need to escape boiled inside me

As he

She

Everyone

The Devil personified

Licked my skin as it turned my blood into steam

Budging my skin to come out

It turned my skin into burnt scars

I want to go away from these god-forsaken place

But I have no wings

Where the fuck are my damn wings?

Why do I still not have it?

I was a good person, wasn’t I?

Now that I desperately need to escape, the wings aren’t still there

Only I have are these two damn feet

But these two

Damn

Feet

Fucking sucks

In my tiredness I slept, and then I awoke

And found myself in a meadow

A wonderful place

With mountains and forests

With unicorns and all wonderful things

Yet here it is again

Chasing me

Grabbing me

I resist

I resist I resist

I don’t want to

In my desperation I ran

I ran

I ran

Until I was at the edge

So I jumped

There was no bottom

I still have no wings

At least, I flew at once.

Mga Sulat sa Repleksyon ng Buwan

For the past few weeks, I have been searching for a homey feeling. My house was a home, but a home can also not be a house. A home is somewhere you can be your true self, your most comfortable, one you can spend your happiness and loneliness.

On my way home earlier, Ang Bandang Shirley’s Nakauwi Na was on repeat.

And then I was reminded of the fact that a person could be a home. Your bivouac. Your safe place. The way your childhood stuff toy gives you the warmth of home is the same warmth you feel when you are in a person’s arms. Her scent reminds you of your bedroom, hints of cologne and shampoo with a familiar scent of old books. The sound of tranquility when you talk (or not talk), making thoughts noisy and surroundings quiet. The sight of familiarity, as you look to her eyes, and you see yourself on the way home.

And so I remember the chorus of the song:

“Kahit sandali lang, basta’t makasama ka
Kahit mamaya-maya lang, ako’y uuwi na.
Kahit walang katapusan, ‘di kita iiwan
Basta’t makasama ka, ako’y nakauwi na.”

That reminded me of this poem I made for someone I hold dear (circa 2015!). Enjoy, I guess? 🙂

---

Halika, hiramin muna kita sa mundo;
Dalawampung minuto’y di sapat, siguro isang oras o buong magdamag.

Halika, hiramin muna kita sa mundo,
Tayo’y maglakad at lisanin ang katotohanan,
Bilangin natin ang mga tala,
Pagmasdan ang hugis ng mga madilim na ulap,
Tingnan ang mga repleksyon natin sa buwan;

Halika, hiramin muna kita sa mundo,
Tayo’y mag-usap na parang nakasanayan,
Magpalitan ng ngiti’t tawa sa pagkumpas ng hangin,
Pakinggan ang mga tinig ng kuliglig,
Hanapin natin ang liwanag sa dilim;

Halika, hiramin muna kita sa mundo,
Sa mundong puno ng sakit ng ulo,
O sa mga problemang nananakit ng puso,
Takasan muna natin ang mapait na katotohanan,
Mabuhay muna tayo sa matamis na ilusyon.

Halika, hiramin muna kita sa mundo,
At isasama kita sa aking mundo.
Mundong itinatag nating dalawa,
Walang makakapasok kundi tayo lang,
Sa bulang puno ng tawa at ligaya,
Walang humpay na away,
Walang tigil na luha,
Tayo’y magsasama.
Iwan muna natin ang iba,

Huwag nating hayaan na masira ang ating saglitang panaginip,
Ang ating bula,
Ang atin.
Halika, hiramin muna kita sa mundo.
Masyadong mabilis ang oras.

Halika, hiramin muna kita sa mundo.
Maghihintay lang ako.

2017 Entry 3: Lost in Thought

I haven’t written for a long time here. Ugh, blame my busy life. I promise swear I’ll try to post more often when I am on my vacation.

Okay, so this poem has been in my documents folder for a while now, and I have decided to make something out of randomly-generated words. The words are in bold.

How random must I free-write eh?

---

Everything feels so unsure,

Like a hymn not memorized

Some try to reassure

Me

That everything is organized

But no, it is not

It is bad, my blood is leaking

Being blown away on a helicopter’s landing

My heart feels sabotaged, kidnapped

By the terrorists of romance

Threatening me that they will explode

Wreck me into pieces and so,

Love will kill me again

Disintegrate my soul

Shut down my brain

Like someone who has lost his feet

On a ballroom floor

Toppling around, carrying her weight in your shoulders

Falling down

Falling in love

Falling in the abyss that is depression

Why does love feel like this?

I’m numb,

I can’t move,

My body feels like it is on paralysis

Never getting to homeostasis

I am not balanced anymore

Intoxicated by the thought of you loving me

It is like a virus interfering with my thoughts

Making me so naïve, why am I naïve?

To think that you will re-appear, will appear like the ghost of my dreams

The specter of my past, the shadow that lurks around the “what-ifs”,

The eyes of a ghoul, staring at me, goes down for a demented kiss.

2017 Entry #2: Of Tired Journeys

11/02/17 23:12

Last night, I found it hard to sleep. At first, I thought maybe my pillow was not warm enough to suit with the cold wind brushing my skin or my blanket was not big enough to cover my body; but I realized as I try to close my eyes that it was because I was thinking about you (well, both of you) over and over again.

“Are they doing okay?”, I thought.

So I turned my pillow over and over again, trying not to make not that much movement so as to not awaken my sleeping roommate, still the thought of you still disturbed my mind. I know that you are okay, you always are, and that is what I like about you in the first place (along with a lot of other reasons, of course you know that).

Then I saw you earlier. Basically I was excited to see you happy, for me to be greeted with your toothy grin; well, Fate has took another course, I guess. On that moment, I know that you are happy, I always have that feeling.

If you are happy, then I am happy too. I hope you know that.

But, one cannot just look away from the tiredness of your eyes, your pale lips (they have always been pale, I put too much effort to look at you once in a while), and your restless expressions. I know, you are tired…

…and I wish I could take your exhaustion away. I always hope that I can.

If I could just hug you and give you enough energy, I would.

I am writing this, because I know that you are currently on your way home, the first time in a month. I wish you a safe trip (maybe by the time I post this, you are just cuddling your pillow in your bed, dreaming about something that I will not know).

If you are not tired from everything else, I hope that we can talk soon. Valentine’s Day is just a few days away, the semester’s end is a long way to go, and I think that we cannot both function to our 100% with the thought of us being too toxic for each other bothering us.

Let us talk, okay? Whenever, wherever, (probably) my treat.