Sunday, December 20, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Saturday, October 3, 2009
I'm Feeling This Song

I HATE THIS PART
By: Pussycat Dolls
We're driving slow through the snow on 5th Avenue
And right now radio's all that we can hear
Now we ain't talked since we left, it's so overdue
It's cold outside but between us it's worse in here
The world slows down
But my heart beats fast right now
I know this is the part
Where the end starts
I can't take it any longer
Thought that we were stronger
All we do is linger
Slipping through my fingers
I don't wanna try now
All that's left's goodbye to
Find a way that I can tell you
I hate this part right here
I hate this part right here
I just can't take these tears
I hate this part right here
Every day, seven takes of the same old scene
Seems we're bound by the laws of the same routine
Gotta talk to you now 'fore we go to sleep
But will we sleep once I tell you what's hurting me?
The world slows down
But my heart beats fast right now
I know this is the part
Where the end starts
I can't take it any longer
Thought that we were stronger
All we do is linger
Slipping through our fingers
I don't wanna try now
All that's left's goodbye to
Find a way that I can tell you
I hate this part right here
I hate this part right here
I just can't take these tears
I hate this part right here
By: Pussycat Dolls
We're driving slow through the snow on 5th Avenue
And right now radio's all that we can hear
Now we ain't talked since we left, it's so overdue
It's cold outside but between us it's worse in here
The world slows down
But my heart beats fast right now
I know this is the part
Where the end starts
I can't take it any longer
Thought that we were stronger
All we do is linger
Slipping through my fingers
I don't wanna try now
All that's left's goodbye to
Find a way that I can tell you
I hate this part right here
I hate this part right here
I just can't take these tears
I hate this part right here
Every day, seven takes of the same old scene
Seems we're bound by the laws of the same routine
Gotta talk to you now 'fore we go to sleep
But will we sleep once I tell you what's hurting me?
The world slows down
But my heart beats fast right now
I know this is the part
Where the end starts
I can't take it any longer
Thought that we were stronger
All we do is linger
Slipping through our fingers
I don't wanna try now
All that's left's goodbye to
Find a way that I can tell you
I hate this part right here
I hate this part right here
I just can't take these tears
I hate this part right here
I know you'll ask me to hold on
And carry on like nothing's wrong
But there is no more time for lies
'Cause I see sunset in your eyes
I can't take it any longer
Thought that we were stronger
All we do is linger
Slipping through our fingers
I don't wanna try now
All that's left's GOODBYE to
Find a way that I can tell you
That I gotta do it
I gotta do it
I gotta do it
I hate this part
I gotta do it
I gotta do it
I gotta do it, oh
I hate this part right here
I hate this part right here
I just can't take these tears
I hate this part right here
Labels:
Heartbreak,
Life,
Love,
Pain,
Soul
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Everything Goes In
And there it goes. My hand went it, then my wrist, then my shoulder. Now, his hand went in, his finger, then his thumb, then his wrist. Everything went into his mouth.
Next went the chicken. The multi-colored chicken went in, head first then wings, then tail.
Next that went in was the tiger, a black and orange striped tiger. The tiger went in claws, fangs, and all.
Then the red masked man went in. He was holding a sword and shield but all went in.
Tweety Bird went in too. Sylvester could not catch him, but he went in.
After him, Spiderman went in. Spiderman in full costume could do naught but go in.
Next went Doramon. The little blue alien went in. Not even his extraterrestrial powers could save him.
Well, what would you expect from a 3-months-and-3-weeks-old baby? Of course everything that goes into contact with his mouth, goes in.



Next went the chicken. The multi-colored chicken went in, head first then wings, then tail.
Next that went in was the tiger, a black and orange striped tiger. The tiger went in claws, fangs, and all.
Then the red masked man went in. He was holding a sword and shield but all went in.
Tweety Bird went in too. Sylvester could not catch him, but he went in.
After him, Spiderman went in. Spiderman in full costume could do naught but go in.
Next went Doramon. The little blue alien went in. Not even his extraterrestrial powers could save him.
Well, what would you expect from a 3-months-and-3-weeks-old baby? Of course everything that goes into contact with his mouth, goes in.




Friday, September 11, 2009
beautiful things
i love beautiful things
i love the rain
i love a hot coffee when it rains
i love the stars
i love the moon amidst the stars
i love the night
i love the middle of the night
i love the grasses
i love the grasshoppers on the grasses
i love the twilight
i love the dawning of the light
i love the sea
i love to go skinny dipping in the sea
i love music
i love everything that goes with music
i love landscapes
i love paintings that depict landscapes
i love the wind
i love it on my face, the feel of the wind
i love dreams
i love to stare at nothing and dream
i love the written word
i love the book, the paper,and the pen
i love love...it is supposed to be beautiful
supposed to be...
i love the rain
i love a hot coffee when it rains
i love the stars
i love the moon amidst the stars
i love the night
i love the middle of the night
i love the grasses
i love the grasshoppers on the grasses
i love the twilight
i love the dawning of the light
i love the sea
i love to go skinny dipping in the sea
i love music
i love everything that goes with music
i love landscapes
i love paintings that depict landscapes
i love the wind
i love it on my face, the feel of the wind
i love dreams
i love to stare at nothing and dream
i love the written word
i love the book, the paper,and the pen
i love love...it is supposed to be beautiful
supposed to be...
Labels:
Beautiful Things,
Emotions,
Imagination,
Insanity,
Love,
Poems,
Soul
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Tattoo
It was September 7, 2009 or 9-7-9 or our 29th monthsary. The Goo Goo Dolls told me that I had to bleed to know I’m alive. So to commemorate that day, I decided to feel all the pain my relationship brought me. I got a tattoo.
I had my doubts but I was already sitting on the chair and the tattoo artist—Ming-ming’s hand holding the gun was already only an inch away from my skin. I wanted to say, “Wait!” but the needle touched skin and it was too late. It was either finish it or finish it. There was no choice; the only other option was to go around with an unfinished tattoo, which was no choice at all (of course).
So I let the pain run its course. Well, anyone who went through childbirth would definitely survive it. There was no competition, not even close. But pain is pain and I wanted to feel.
I sat there unmoving, letting the needle run through my skin over and over again; the black ink mixing with my blood. I had to concentrate really hard to recall why I decided to do this to myself. At times I really feel stupid. Everything that has happened is due to the choices I made, so there is no one to blame but me, myself, and I. "When will I ever learn?" is a good question that I have to tattoo in my mind.
After an hour, it was done. I got marked. Like my Cebuano ancestors before me, I too am now a pintados. (Good thing my blood type is O plus; I don’t have to worry about blood donation and such.)
I’m hoping that every time I’ll see this mark on me, I’ll remember that the choices I’ll make could either bring joy or pain. Think twice or a million times over before deciding. But then, maybe I made a wrong move again! How could this mark remind me when it’s at my back? I’d had to look at a mirror to see it. Tsktsktsk!Spring, get a grip! Lest people will see you walking around with your head full of tattoos!
I had my doubts but I was already sitting on the chair and the tattoo artist—Ming-ming’s hand holding the gun was already only an inch away from my skin. I wanted to say, “Wait!” but the needle touched skin and it was too late. It was either finish it or finish it. There was no choice; the only other option was to go around with an unfinished tattoo, which was no choice at all (of course).
So I let the pain run its course. Well, anyone who went through childbirth would definitely survive it. There was no competition, not even close. But pain is pain and I wanted to feel.
I sat there unmoving, letting the needle run through my skin over and over again; the black ink mixing with my blood. I had to concentrate really hard to recall why I decided to do this to myself. At times I really feel stupid. Everything that has happened is due to the choices I made, so there is no one to blame but me, myself, and I. "When will I ever learn?" is a good question that I have to tattoo in my mind.
After an hour, it was done. I got marked. Like my Cebuano ancestors before me, I too am now a pintados. (Good thing my blood type is O plus; I don’t have to worry about blood donation and such.)
I’m hoping that every time I’ll see this mark on me, I’ll remember that the choices I’ll make could either bring joy or pain. Think twice or a million times over before deciding. But then, maybe I made a wrong move again! How could this mark remind me when it’s at my back? I’d had to look at a mirror to see it. Tsktsktsk!Spring, get a grip! Lest people will see you walking around with your head full of tattoos!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Found Yah! Rosas ng Digma at Ang Tugon
Rosas ng Digma
Sumibol sa isang panahong marahas
Bawat pagsubok ay iyong hinarap
At hangga’t laya’y di pa nakakamtan
Buhay mo’y laging laan
Namumukadkad at puno ng sigla
Tulad mo’y rosas sa hardin ng digma
At di maiwasang sa’yo ay humanga
Ang tulad kong mandirigma
(Refrain)
Ako’y nangangarap na ika’y makasama
Taglay ang pangakong iingatan kita
Ang ganda mong nahubog sa piling ng masa
Hinding hindi kukupas, di malalanta
Ang kulay mong angkin, sintingkad ng dugo
Nagbibigay-buhay sa bawat puso
Tinik mo’y sagisag ng tapang at giting
Sa langara’y kislap ng bituin
(Repeat refrain twice)
Gaya ng pag-ibig na alay ko sinta
Ang Tugon
Ika’y paru-parong nangahas lumipad
Sa dilim ng gabi pilit na umalpas
Pagkat hanap mo’y ningning at laya ng bukas
Sa aking mundo’y napadpad
Katulad ng iba ay nagmamahal din
Kahit malayo ay liliparin
Upang pag-ibig mo’y iparating
Sa rosas ng iyong paningin
(Refrain)
Ako’y nangangarap na ika’y makasama
Taglay ang pangakong iingatan kita
Ang ganda mong nahubog sa piling ng masa
Hinding hindi kukupas, di malalanta
(Repeat refrain)
Gaya ng pag-ibig na alay ko sinta
Sumibol sa isang panahong marahas
Bawat pagsubok ay iyong hinarap
At hangga’t laya’y di pa nakakamtan
Buhay mo’y laging laan
Namumukadkad at puno ng sigla
Tulad mo’y rosas sa hardin ng digma
At di maiwasang sa’yo ay humanga
Ang tulad kong mandirigma
(Refrain)
Ako’y nangangarap na ika’y makasama
Taglay ang pangakong iingatan kita
Ang ganda mong nahubog sa piling ng masa
Hinding hindi kukupas, di malalanta
Ang kulay mong angkin, sintingkad ng dugo
Nagbibigay-buhay sa bawat puso
Tinik mo’y sagisag ng tapang at giting
Sa langara’y kislap ng bituin
(Repeat refrain twice)
Gaya ng pag-ibig na alay ko sinta
Ang Tugon
Ika’y paru-parong nangahas lumipad
Sa dilim ng gabi pilit na umalpas
Pagkat hanap mo’y ningning at laya ng bukas
Sa aking mundo’y napadpad
Katulad ng iba ay nagmamahal din
Kahit malayo ay liliparin
Upang pag-ibig mo’y iparating
Sa rosas ng iyong paningin
(Refrain)
Ako’y nangangarap na ika’y makasama
Taglay ang pangakong iingatan kita
Ang ganda mong nahubog sa piling ng masa
Hinding hindi kukupas, di malalanta
(Repeat refrain)
Gaya ng pag-ibig na alay ko sinta
Friday, September 4, 2009
Emote-ING
The sands of the hourglass keeps falling
The clock keeps ticking
Time keeps running
I stare at it not seeing
Just watching
But not really seeing
The shades that are black and white, monotonous, boring
Inside concrete walls sitting
And sitting
Waiting for nothing
Doing the motions again and again constantly repeating
Now lying
Looking at the ceiling
Still it’s black and white, unmoving
Sleeping
The colors burst forth, hear voices laughing
See lips smiling
Feel rain pouring
The heart is beating
Eyes flutter open, it’s black and white again…nothing is stirring.
The clock keeps ticking
Time keeps running
I stare at it not seeing
Just watching
But not really seeing
The shades that are black and white, monotonous, boring
Inside concrete walls sitting
And sitting
Waiting for nothing
Doing the motions again and again constantly repeating
Now lying
Looking at the ceiling
Still it’s black and white, unmoving
Sleeping
The colors burst forth, hear voices laughing
See lips smiling
Feel rain pouring
The heart is beating
Eyes flutter open, it’s black and white again…nothing is stirring.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Happiness is a Choice
We’ve reached that point wherein I had to tiptoe at an early hour of the day carrying my baby on my arm, while carrying a handful of other stuff on my other arm; tiptoeing off away from the house, away from my husband.
The taxi driver asked, “Why this early?”
My reply was a hallow laughter.
I just came home from work. I had not slept yet, I could not sleep. After hearing the bomb he droped yet again (I've heard so many already), I felt so helpless and hopeless. All my efforts have gone to Hades. Nothing I ever did mattered. It is frustrating but I had it coming. I fell for the man that could have been and not for the man that really is.
Well, I had to break free. A life is at stake. Not my own or his, but Nathaniel’s.
I love Nathaniel with every fiber of my being. From the moment I heard his first cry upon giving birth to him; I have sworn to protect him with all that I am. I am ready to protect him even from his own father.
I have to be strong. The last thing my mother told me, when we were able to communicate a month ago, was “Be strong.” I am trying to be strong. I really am. Well, I have not break down yet…but almost there. I’m not really sure how long I would still be able to keep it all intact.
All I think of right now is that I have Nathaniel and that’s enough.
Happiness is a choice and I choose to be happy.
The taxi driver asked, “Why this early?”
My reply was a hallow laughter.
I just came home from work. I had not slept yet, I could not sleep. After hearing the bomb he droped yet again (I've heard so many already), I felt so helpless and hopeless. All my efforts have gone to Hades. Nothing I ever did mattered. It is frustrating but I had it coming. I fell for the man that could have been and not for the man that really is.
Well, I had to break free. A life is at stake. Not my own or his, but Nathaniel’s.
I love Nathaniel with every fiber of my being. From the moment I heard his first cry upon giving birth to him; I have sworn to protect him with all that I am. I am ready to protect him even from his own father.
I have to be strong. The last thing my mother told me, when we were able to communicate a month ago, was “Be strong.” I am trying to be strong. I really am. Well, I have not break down yet…but almost there. I’m not really sure how long I would still be able to keep it all intact.
All I think of right now is that I have Nathaniel and that’s enough.
Happiness is a choice and I choose to be happy.
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