Don't expect me to change, for if one second it passes through your mind that somehow, maybe someday soon, I will change. Give up. Out of line, it simply is. I love myself for who I am, and I love my friends for who they are. YOU are one of us, yet so contradictory you ask us to stop. Perhaps if you change first, we'll ONLY consider it. But this is us now, then, and in the future. If you don't want to see it, leave. Don't talk to us. But if you still want to contradict yourself, be my guest. Act in your influentially flambuoyant ways, sister. We'll see who's more the flirt.

It's too hard to explain what you've done to me, too hard for me to imagine, too hard for me to begin. In what right sense of mind do you have to have done that to whom you called your friend? So well of me you claim your words, and yet to know that your words set fire to my stand... Count the number of strikes now too many, too dark to erase, and hopefully you realize and grow from your selfishness and self-pity. Your actions affect the lives of other people and don't just shrug that fact off like a piece of dust.
You're unforgiveable. Get away from me.

The 15th of December... I'm supposed to be excited for this December 17th to come, but yet I'm not. My tears for you earlier this month... I don't know what prompted them because now I don't know the reason. Or rather, I don't feel the reason. What do I need from it? What do I need from you? I could call it inspiration, but I can do well enough on my own. It's not security, I felt less secure with you around. So what do I call you now? Do I let this foolishness go on?

Life is so smooth ever since the departure. Less stress, perhaps... Less worries... Do I still love you? I'm afraid not...

I'll wait until the tree has cast its shadow
I'll cower under its looming height
There I'll be safe
And not be burned by watchful eyes
And not be seen outside my walls
But I'm forced to watch an endless hourly rotation
I'm forced to wait til shadows widen and consume me
Please, devour me

And though at 6 they create their golden lights,
So they can settle to know it's only dust behind the counter,
I embrace you, darkness, once nature's sight has fallen
And their tired eyelids have, too

Take me as I flip blindly into my blackened sheets, my cloak
For I must mask myself as the dust...
The shadowed movement through the dark
Who always takes his steps behind their backs

Oh stranger, grab me unexpectedly
And drag me into the corners of the alleys
I'll keep my eyes closed so I can sense you
For if they open, the world of fear will set us apart
And my hold on you is actually just an empty softness
But real enough when my eyes are shut

And in the morning I'll smile no more
Once daylight pierces my sleep

After all, you were just a dream

We'd been lined up
With only tears to remind us that we're real
Our voices had been stolen
So the stones just piled on
On our shoulders and on our chests
On our backs and on our feet

Until there was heard a solid crack
That could shake you head to toe

If only you weren't born of granite
You'd step out from the mess you're standing in
And smell the raunch of those you've murdered

If only you weren't born of sturdy stone
You'd crumble at the thought

And now I'm next to bow down
Finding myself between your rocks
And your well-swept hard place:
Your white marble altar
Shows no imperfections
The stains of your delicate wine
Remain hidden at your feet

Now you add boulders for each sin,
Your accusations
That I danced naked in the woods
That hands have touched me
That I brought your dead back to life
That I will kill you

And no, I won't break
I'll watch you tremble
And drown in your sweat
Because I am the Witch.

Mimicing your words brought us here
Where there are lilies and there are orchids
Closing my eyes, I'm at home
Keeping them closed, I'll feel at home.

Guaranteed with your every word
Would be my smile though not a reply
You could count the hours, endless smiles
And count my words with just your fingers
Keep counting
While I pick up my coffee cup
And swallow my guilt and your hard-day's work
The radio in the taxi brings us to my place
And as you take off my shirt,
Add another finger to the times our eyes made contact
Count them now and tell me truth in my touch to your lips.

When its over I lock the door
And smell the roses on the table.

There she is again, sitting, up there on the 13th step. Her deep, pale eyelids hiding her cold, gray eyes. People pass her by splashing dirty puddles upon her. But there she is, still, sitting on the 13th step holding her shattered plastic cup. Empty like her bag. Wearing her tattered green flannel and muddy red skirt as the whole world passes by. She's waiting, unexpecting for her cup to carry a burden of weight. They all pretend she isn't there, sitting, up on the 13th step. Their eyes on the mall across the way. Breathing the air of wasteful cars. Seeing the darkness of the city's feet. Hearing the angry horns and excited shoppers. Feeling the coldness of these warm-blooded creatures. Tasting nothing at all, except a life sitting, up there, on the 13th step.

So perhaps it was just a dream. But, unlike others, this time the dream felt real because people knew, people saw, and I loved it. I can keep on dreaming but what's the point. Is it really over? It happened so fast. Things are like that for me. It wasn't really my place to be in their dream. Such a big dream. For them it was coming true. Mine was just a year-long dream that I never thought would come true. I didn't deserve for it to come true.

And as simply as a snap, it ended. I'm tested yet again, but it is also my choice. I told them I could give it up. I told myself I could give him up. And so they told me to give it up. Perhaps he didn't have the heart to tell me himself, but that's how fate moves its cycles. He's better off with him. With me, he'd be making a bad decision and ruining their plans in life. Such big plans. I'm too young to match what he can give and moreso am I too feeble to comprehend exactly what they have.

I'm still yet to understand what really happened. I'm still yet to understand why I keep blinding myself from everything around me. I don't know whether I need to just listen, believe what I see, or if my powers of observation are not keen enough. I had a vibe, but I don't live on vibes. I live on words, and already in two instances which require my entire trust... It's been broken. I did want to trust them, so I did. Though I knew they just weren't telling the whole truth. I lived on their words. My trust floated on the words they threw at me.

I haven't been to training in a while... Not to my own fault but at the same time I didn't feel bad about it because I was actually feeling laziness settle in and I was getting into the mood where I hated what I was doing. Nonetheless, I went this evening to... get it over with?? ...I suppose.

It was almost relieving when we had to evacuate the training hall because they were going to spray the PE Annex and the Gymnasium because of a mosquito problem. After an hour or so, we were allowed to go back in.

Kuya England started the warm up in his usual fun manner... And suddenly the mood was absolutely mellow. He asked us to stand full relevé and then look up at the ceiling. He he turned off the lights and asked us to close our eyes and sit down.... He played "Kailan" by MYMP and told us to move with the music... "Release the tension and move with your arms..."

Although the semester break has just ended and should have given me a time to relax, I hadn't felt so relaxed until this moment. I didn't expect this from training... and I don't think anyone else did either. I felt happiness... A level of happiness that leads to those famous tears of joy. I've never had that. Yet with something so simple, with something so daily, I felt it.

Kuya England asked us to lie down... Keep our eyes closed... Relax... Breathe in... Breathe out... He told us it was okay to cry if we wanted...

Even with my eyes closed I could feel them fill up with tears which slipped through my eyelids and down my face. I found myself crying on the floor at school with 30 other dancers around me in the dark.

We sat up again and the tears fell... I kept my eyes open even though he asked us to keep them closed... I couldn't anymore...

The warm-up and stretching ended and the lights turned on again...

One of my batchmates was in the back crying and surrounded by people. Her brother had died...

Dancer. Stage Actor.

People wouldn't usually associate those people with the word, "shy," but I prefer to differ.

Yeah, I'm shy. I'm timid. This word isn't positive and is never found as a good quality. It's a sign of weakness, an attribute of impairment... a flaw.

Yet I can't get over this introversion that cripples my senses and leaves me away from the crowd and hiding in the corner, just watching.

It's hard to get over this nervousness that must be overridden. I can't keep living in some sort of shell. I have to go and get what I want...

All American Kid

Popular but not plastic. Athletic but not a jock. Smart but not a brain. You were well rounded and well liked in high school.

Not surprised...

Third time in a row that I've dreamt of being back in the states, back in high school. Still feeling out of place, knowing no one's there yet everyone's around. Who do I hangout with? Where are my friends? I talked to people, but I wasn't sure with whom I belong. I couldn't find my friends. Only those acquaintances or friendly friends, not close friends, were there. My "parents" still remembered one girl, some girls were still cheerleading, although they quit two years before. Our high school was what I had always wanted it to be... Except I never belonged. I still had the experience of living in the Philippines again with me. I felt so out of place. I couldn't be happy for them, nor could I even say more than three words. It was all plastic. I wanted to speak Filipino...

Commuting from Las Pinas to Loyola Memorial Park Marikina:

Tricycle (20 pesos) out of the subdivision...
Jeep (7.50) to the highway... traffic... rain...
Bus to Ayala (18 pesos) raining...
MRT to Cubao (12 pesos) not that many people...
LRT to Katipunan (11 pesos) got a seat!!!
Jeep (7.50) lots of people... sat in front... haha

The way back

Jeep (7.50) Calumpang? Where the hell is that?
Jeep (7.50) From who knows where through Marcos Highway to Cubao... rain and splashes of water in my ear...
MRT... whoops... MRT was closed already...
BUS (35 pesos) until Sucat
Jeep (7.50) almost home...
Tricycle (20 pesos)

My sister and I walked from the entrance to Loyola to our grandmother's grave near the far corner of the memorial park. It wasn't bad, just sprinkling a little. I hadn't been there since I was maybe 8 years old, and definitely only remember going once. I remember the general look of the place but neither of us knew exactly where the grave of our grandmother was. We searched in the mud and rain walking all over graves and puddles of water and mud for a while in the dark, at around 9 pm. We finally found the grave and it honestly was fulfilling to crouch their near her grave, just my sister and me. Then we walked back to the entrance.



The point is... I miss my car and driving and how easy it used to be to get where I needed to go. Yeah, I gave all that up to live here, but I have the right to miss it, don't I?

It made me think of what I'd been told, that it only was 3000 USD to ship a car from the US to the Philippines. I started to miss my car even more and eventually wondered if the car could be sent here. Commodity or inconvenience?

I guessed it wouldn't hurt to ask if my car was still alive, would it?

So I tried out the IDD ... Ring ring....

(fast forward...)
"Is the car still there?"

No...
Hayy...

"What happened to it?"

My foster dad's mother took it with them to Oregon. They figured it would cost too much to maintain it and sold it. The money was sent to my foster dad. He was pretty upset, it was his car after all.

And my car too...

Goodbye "galant," goodbye memories. Although you WERE about to croak on me in our last year... hehe...
It started with that odd clickety sound, which people made fun of at first, but marked it as part of your identity.
Identity... like the nickname galant. Even though there was already a Mitsubishi Galant, we called you galant because you were more regal than the rest. There was the Bronco, Beatrice's car and the BEAST... Katie's Durango... AND that Kelly girl's nickname. Because she WAS a beast.
And that's what we yelled out of your windows everytime we drove by her. Maybe she deserved it, maybe she didn't. But she was a beast.

When did it start? You were shared until Tita got her new Volvo. That summer was a bad summer. Going far, but not too far. Just in town. Searching for love? Nah... Soul searching. Waking up early to drop Tita off, then coming back to pick her up. There was no summer training for cheerleading, and no cheer camp for me. Yeah, this year was different.

Taking you on a drive around the block although I didn't have my license yet. Great things start from small beginnings.

Midday gimmicks, driving from one place to another buying food, doing nothing.

Lunchbreaks... McDonald's before Yearbook, High-Tech Burrito during Yearbook, and Carl's Jr. after Yearbook.

Cheerleading, then driving to the JC for diving... parking tickets!!! I only got one, right?
Then driving back to Ridgway for swimming. Then rushing back to school to cheer at the basketball game.

Maroon 5... This Love... repeated over and over again... While driving Alicia, Nadia, Jenee, Janet, and the girls to diving...
Norah Jones on the way home, getting sleepy already...
And Britney Spears... In the Zone... On the way to see Mike...

Yeah. You were my solitude that brought me to see him. Through the winter rain, I didn't mind driving the 45 minutes to 1 hour to see him. Then he visited, and he met my friends. We hugged against your doors, and it was us. his scent was amazing.
I never washed your windshield. I should have. I was reminded everyday on the way to school when I saw the spots on the way to school. But I never did. It's because I kissed him. It got foggy inside... and we had to leave. I didn't have anything with which to wipe the windshield so I used Mari's Valentine's Day gift to me. The little black stuffed doggy. His head's been bleached by the sun since it sat on the dashboard all through summer. Now it sits in a corner of my room.

Then the ride home. Rushing already, because I was late. Curfew was 10 pm...

Fountaingrove. Turn right on Highway 12, turn left. Go down until the road forks, then go up the hill on the left of the fork. Or go to the right. From the left go straight, through the stop sign and through the forest. Turn left and up the hill. Brave the wall and follow the S to the stop. Cross when you can and stay to the left. Go left up the hill, make sure to shift down for the steep grade. Go up the hill... Go through Fountaingrove Parkway, follow it down the hill. Turn right at Thomas Lake Harris. Turn right at Cross Creek Road, then all the way to the end. This wasn't Mike... This was stalking. And no one desacrated you like I insulted his car. Condoms.

Taking people home... Then taking you home... Always safe... No matter where...

Then I wasn't allowed to take you out anymore... You were replaced with Beatrice's Bronco and Nicole's Truck...

And then I left... Our friends aren't friends anymore. They've all changed and left each other.

Seats 5 (small) people... "Are we ALL gonna fit? There's like 7 of us!"
Light blue... "is that like grayish blue?"
Sheepskin covers... "oh my GOD!!! That's real sheep skin?? sorry sorry!!! I won't pull it anymore!"
Leather seats... "dude, Marvin, my ass is sweaty"
6 CD Disc Changer... "MARVIN!!! Stop repeating that song!!"
Poseable Mercedes Medallion... "Nadia, you can't reach the hood from the sunroof!" ~ "Watch me!"
Sunroof... "This is so my other arm doesn't get darker than the other..."
Your clicking noise... "It's like an announcement that Marvin's around the corner."

And now you probably drive another young teenager around Oregon.
Let's hope he doesn't move a little too fast in a residential area.
Or go past the stop line a little too much.
Or go into a bus lane when he's never seen one like it before.


Here's to happy memories, Bessie... It's what I called you in my head. Goodbye, Galant... And Good Luck...


Foggy windows that I never washed
Leave spots that the morning sun reveals
I squint to see past those lovely brown remnants
Shrugged off in revs over speed bumps

Little dark gifts with big heads, cute
Now discoloured and originally undeserved
Are the reasons why I struggle to see
Using kindness on a long-lost cause

And pointless shame and memory
Keep the dirt inside a chanced luxury
A treasure of Cool Watered tears and kisses
Repeats alongside old track 12

Hypnotizing, the voice
But like a fan I follow and say
That I must need you. How I hate you.
How I hate your lips, they sucked my neck

In ecstasy
That is there again as the sunrise climbs
And I follow the warmth, falling everyday,
because of the miracle
When the queen finally kissed a worker bee

-MW


My chanced luxury...

Although religion really isn't my thing, I'm beginning to feel closer to God. But you'll never find me going (back) to the Victory Christian Fellowship Youth on Fire program... The one with the alternative band and people raising their hands to God with their eyes closed. I don't see myself doing that... I guess I'm not as spirital as they are. I just don't feel it.

But if anything, I feel a God guiding me. A way of making me feel better about things that happen. Giving reason, in a sense. I wasn't feeling too safe with 4 of my classes this semester and I didn't see myself passing and making it as an apprentice in Salinggawi. But it is something I really want... and I felt that if God meant it for me, then it would happen. As long as I wasn't stubborn and did what I was supposed to, even if I felt that no matter what I did I would have failed.

Both school and Salinggawi have brought me closer to God. Not really in learning why things happen, but learning that there is an important result in what happens. A so-called lesson...

Pray before eating... =)

I weigh 125 lbs now, and no longer disabled.

It feels good to know that I'm loved. I suppose so. But it's not always the best feeling. It happens in stages and various levels and degrees of love. Infatuated love is the dangerous love. When one is on the receiving end, one gets scared.

So now I know how they've felt. How they felt when I was infatuated with them, that is. I cannot believe that I did it, but at the same time I believe that it's a stage one has to go through in one's lovelife. I found that I was left mostly for my infatuation. For being clingy, possessive, and asking too much of the person. I've changed, but perhaps it's turned into insensitivity and antipathy.
"I miss you."
I can't utter those words. Not even to my friends, not to my brother, my sisters, nor my own mother. Quite different from what I used to be... Hanging on to every word, every breath.

But I see myself in them. More than one of them, yes. Being on the other end now, I have no idea what to do. It hurts a lot for the other side...

It also makes me wonder...
What did I do to attract them like that?
Was our connection that strong?
And what does it mean... "when I first saw you... i loved you..." ...?

It is madly frustrating for me not being able to do anything or move around. Although I seem codependent, I just constantly need advice and I try to do what I can by myself. Being disabled for an unknown period of time makes me want to tear my hair out with my bare hands. I'm tired. Everything takes too much energy and so much time to do. The other day I took a shower sitting down because I didn't want to repeat the process while practicing one-leg balances. Although school isn't so much of a pain (literally) in my foot after getting more pain killers, it is nonetheless tiring to wake up so early in the morning to go to school on crutches. I threw up my breakfast on the way to school this morning for an unknown reason. I've also lost too much weight; I haven't weighed this little (118 lbs) in 4 years. Heartburn keeps creeping up on me as well. I don't know what's happening to me. I'm breaking down.

I'm not a partier. I have a hard time enjoying myself when the mass around me is. As long as it involves socializing, I'm better off standing alone against the wall. Maybe I just wished that it was soething like you and me against the world. Until realize, it's just me.

And so I was left in the back corner of the bar as he went to fetch our friends. I felt it coming, even the night before... "...so your market value to other people will increase..." and the distance in the club... "...Go dance... over there..." "with people I don't know?" "yeah, enjoy yourself..." "...but I AM enjoying"

But it isn't... hasn't... and won't be us.

At least not now.

So I'll wait. I'll wait until God knows when because I'm tired of getting to know anyone else. I'm tired of stepping out of my comfort zone because I've found it...


Ikaw na ay may sabi na ako'y mahal mo rin
At sinabi mo ang pag-ibig mo'y 'di magbabago
Ngunit bakit sa tuwing ako'y lumalapit
Ika'y lumalayo
Puso'y laging nasasaktan pag may kasama kang iba
'Di ba nila alam?
Tayo'y nagsumpaan
Na ako'y sa'yo
At ika'y akin lamang

Kahit anong manyari pag-ibig ko'y sa'yo parin
At kahit ano pa ang sabihin nila'y ikaw parin
Ang mahal...
Maghihintay ako kahit kailan
Kahit na umabot 'man ako'y nasa langit na
At kung 'di ka makita
Makikiusap kay Bathala
Na ika'y hanapin at sabihin
Ipaalala sa iyo
Ang nakalimutang sumpaan
Na ako'y sa'yo at ika'y akin lamang

Umasa ka maghihintay ako kahit kailan
Kahit na umabot 'man ako'y nasa langit na
At kung 'di ka makita
Makikiusap kay Bathala
Na ika'y hanapin at sabihin
Ipaalala sa iyo
Ang nakalimutang sumpaan
Na ako'y sa'yo at ika'y akin lamang


(You are the one that said that you love me too and you said that your feelings will never change, but why is it that everytime I come close to you, you walk away... my heart gets hurt everytime I see you with someone else... don't they know? we made a promise... that I am yours... and you are mine only...Through whatever happens, my love will still be yours, and whatever they may say, you're still the one.. I love.... I'll wait for you at all times, even if I reach heaven by then, and if I don't see you.. I'll speak to God... and ask him to find you and tell you... remind you of our forgotten promise... that I am yours and you are mine only...... )

I asked my sister for a cigarette. She gave me one as if it was normal. But He was surprised. I didn't get dizzy from it, so I asked for another one. I wanted to smoke until I got dizzy. But I didn't quite get dizzy from that one. I had another one and my walking started to become wobbly. I wanted to smoke until I couldn't breathe. So I smoked some more. I've never smoked so much in my life. I fell off the table. I took another cigarette because I wasn't quite dizzy enough. I wanted to smoke until I threw up. I had an asthma attack. But I kept smoking my fourth cigarette. I didn't care because I wanted to throw up. I put it out and tried my hardest to breathe. What had I done?