My "Holiday in Goa"

India is indeed full of surprises. I have not been here long enough to understand the many different things I see and hear around me in this small city called Bhubaneswar, City of a Thousand Temples. I have heard stories. I have seen stories. One thing is for sure, India has surprised me in more ways than I could ever imagine while I prepared for my place of assignment while in Manila, Philippines.

I had such a whirlwind relationship with my old self back home and somehow amidst all that, India called me. I packed my suitcase with all the things that could provide me comfort during my placement. Yes, including a Winnie-the-Pooh winning I have managed to win at a game place called "Timezone".

Personally, my plan was to "take time" for myself, and what better way to do it than share skills and change lives?

Professionally, this has always been my passion.

I arrived in Delhi and went through the process. Three weeks later, I took that 24 hour train ride to Bhubaneswar, and for the first time, I saw India. I felt butterflies in my stomach. I knew then, I have arrived.

About a week ago, four months after settling in, my roommate suggested that I watch this film entitled, "Outsourced". I did not ask why anymore because we always exchange good movies anyway. I reckoned it was good. So I copied it from her external hard drive. I then prepared myself for yet again another one of those movie marathons I always do before going to bed.

I ended up laughing out loud while watching it. The movie hit home big time. It is about this American guy named Todd or Mr. Todd (pronounced Mister Toad) who lost his job because it was being outsourced to India. In order for him to get all his employment benefits, he was tasked to go to India to train his replacement. His adventures started upon arrival at the airport. It evolved around this small town and this small call center, and of course, like any other movies, there is the romance part, where he met this Indian girl named Asha, a call center agent. Both their lives changed after that.

Asha: "I am engaged to be married."
Todd: "so what am I to you?"
Asha: "you are my holiday in Goa"
Todd: "I am just your holiday in Goa"(sounding really sad and disappointed)
Asha: "no no...you are my only...holiday in goa"

The movie told me 2 things; 1. do not resist India, and 2. "Holiday in Goa".

When you want to have a time off for yourself or otherwise, think not of resistance. Just let go. Just go with the flow. Try not to over analyze and just let things be. Slowly, everything will unfold and before you knew it, you are already having a good time.

"Holiday in Goa" was a romantic metaphor, yet Goa is a real place to escape here in India. There you can be yourself, maybe bask in the sun, read a book, swim, be yourself, have a drink, take a sip, have meaningful conversations with strangers, and just enjoying it and living for the moment.

I have not been to Goa yet but I sure hope to be able to see it before my placement is over. I have heard stories about it, and the movie clearly gave me the picture of what metaphorical Goa is about.

Goa can be a person, can be an experience, can be a friend. It can be what you want to think of it. It is your metaphor afterall.

I have found my "holiday in Goa" and it so happened to be India.


Isn't that the mother of all metaphors?

From India With Love

From India With Love
Four months and still counting. My honeymoon stage with India is finally over and it is time to dance the tides.

Last night I have reached the boiling point when I started questioning the very essence of my being here. Frustration has its way of switching off the light in me that tells me I am not a quitter and that the best is yet to come. I gave in to my weaknesses and succumb to my usual self and waived the white flag and put myself to sleep.

I slept for 15 hours and woke up feeling a little better because I got to talk to my roommate Jen. She lets me let it out and it gives me some relief. She always says "good morning" when I wake up and she is around (she is always up ahead of me), and says "goodnight" before she goes to bed (she always sleeps earlier than me).

Over coffee we get to tell how the day went.

I almost said no to going to the other side of town to go see another friend Louise, because I knew I would just be cranky and all I would be doing is bitch about how my day went.

I just realized however, that no matter how I felt, I should get up, change and show up.

I am glad I did just that.

I showered and dressed and sat for a while and browsed through my work again. Something in me has been stirred by the pictures I myself took for my assignment here in India. I have realized I am not doing this for just one particular person or for one particular organization, I was doing my work for these women and children, and that no matter how hard things can be to get a job done, the fact is, it can be done. I just have to find ways to move around the problem and sort it out.

As I stared at the pictures, I heard Jen's voice from the door suggesting that we leave early so she can buy her farewell present for Louise.

I grabbed my scarf and went out of my room, this time in a chirpy mood.

After three shared auto rickshaw rides and ten minutes of walking, all three of us sat at a table at our favorite cafe called Cafe Coffee Day and chatted over coffee.

Then went back to Louise's apartment and had a sumptuous pasta dinner that she prepared for us, and chatted the night away.

The farewell gifts were unwrapped.

I took a moment. I had my present long before this night. I had my present from Jen the afternoon she met me at the train station, and I had my present from Louise the afternoon we went to see Lingaraj Temple.

I am not the one leaving soon because I have just arrived, but I think the hardest part of volunteering is having to say goodbye to the people you have grown a certain fondness with, to say goodbye to friends, not just a fellow volunteer.

I am sorry Louise that I am bailing out on you for another moonlit night in Puri for christmas, because I am not good with goodbyes.

I am sorry Jen that I am not a huggy kind of person because I am not good with affections.

I am glad I have met you both here in India and indeed goodbyes can be hard but then we will always have India, and we have had good times.

Cheers and Enjoy each journey!

Misleading Definition

Someone recently asked me, "what's in a name?" I thought he was just picking my brain by quoting Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet's famous line, but it turns out he was explaining to me the effects of labels with the way we think or feel.

One act of kindness can define friendship, one blink of an eye can define fear, one kiss on the lips can lead to a thousand other meanings.

Why put a label? Why the need to define something as anything, and anything as something?

I guess there are two kinds of people who walk this earth, the one that drives and the one that is being driven. Some people are bound by these labels and definitions so they will know the boundaries, when to cross the line and when not to cross the lines. They need things to be defined so they know if they can claim for it or not. Feelings are defined by emotions for how else can one react to something without knowing it for sure?

Then there are those people who are driven, not by the labels and definitions, but by taking moments. Those people who enjoy the freedom of fluidity, unguarded, unbound, and unbridled, taking moments after moments. The thought of it is quite unnerving.

I could not answer that question with a straight face without feeling all gooey inside, because every time I feel like showing my dimples, I would like to call it a smile, every time I make a goofy face and a crazy person comes out of me I would like to call it laughter, and every time tears roll down my tears I would like to say that I am sad. I have gone through "taking moments" too, kissing goodbye to someone while the rain is pouring so that I could hide the tears, a walk by the beach just talking and not minding the time, eating chocolate chip cookies with friends while watching girl flicks, and I can go on and on.

Clearly, if I am to define myself then that is a misleading definition, I am who I am because of what I am.

Would a rose by any other name still be a rose?

Just Thinking Out Loud

In life we make decisions and the uncertainties of these decisions may even shock our senses and scare the hell out of us. It is not about making the right or wrong decision it is about taking that step and taking responsibility for making a decision, whether right or wrong.

In the end, we are the ones who took that first hit, that first blow, that first hello, even that first kiss. Nobody pointed a gun to our heads to make that first move. Our instinct, our pride, our emotions, our arrogance, our own way of thinking, and even our own prejudices, made us come up with that decision.

To pin it down to someone else, to say that we were pressured to take that plunge to come up with a decision, is just plain immature, reckless and prude, if I may verbalize the actuality of the actions.

Yes, I speak my mind quite eloquently and most of the time quite heedlessly, but I take responsibility and sole ownership for it.

I mean what I say and I say what I mean, and almost always, words do get in the way, and quite frequently I choke on my own words.

I make no apologies for saying what I mean, and meaning what I say, but I do sincerely make apologies for how I may have said it, and how my words are being interpreted and understood.

It can be quite tiring having to make all the efforts to express one’s thoughts, one’s feelings, and one’s past or future, when all that is being understood is how it has been expressed. One can be judged as either being self-righteous, self-absorbed, self-serving or selfish. “Self” seems to be the common word.

It is like talking to a cold wall. All you get is an echo of your own voice and still you get to apologize.

All things being considered, language barrier, cultural differences, manner of speaking, way of thinking, spoken or written words, age, gender, sexual preferences, professionalism, profession, expertise, experiences, level of understanding, points of view, beliefs or even creed, gravity still tells you the world is flat and everything you throw up in the air, falls down on the ground.

Do I understand you? Do you understand me? Are we having an understanding?

It is like asking which came first, the chicken or the egg.

It is a vicious cycle and quite frankly, after all that has been said and done, you are left feeling drained.

Again, this is just me, thinking out loud.

Serenata in My Mind

Go away
I cannot hold still
not for long
I will succumb to you
once more.

You and I
we have history
and it was only
melancholy you gave
me.

I cannot turn to you
not here
not now
when I am fighting it
when I am finally saying no.

Serenata
you are only a tiny substance
good only when I allow you to be
this is only in my mind
only in my mind.

Go away.

I am.

Walking away.

Dreaming of a Tenzing Norgay

“There could be an Everest at every turn, every day; that's why we need a Tenzing Norgay. Edmund Hillary made it because he had Norgay.”

A friend of mine wrote me this message upon seeing the photos I took of Tenzing Norgay’s memorial cremation site.

I too took a moment and contemplated on the possibilities of Everest at every turn in every day, and imagined what it would be like to have a Tenzing Norgay to be with me every step of the way.

I onced dived with scuba in my back 35 feet under water in an island off Tawi-Tawi Beach, and I would not have made it without my dive buddy holding my hand giving me the ok sign at every turn. I was freezing not having worn a wet suit for the dive, but it felt wonderful because my dive buddy never let me go.

It must have been that way for Edmund Hillary having Tenzing Norgay with him, or the other way around.

It is not at all a bad idea to dream of a Tenzing Norgay, and I suppose reaching the summit is even lovelier when you share it with someone.

I too am dreaming of having a Tenzing Norgay at every turn
there is an Everest, but I am also accepting the fact that some Everest(s) are still worth climbing alone.

After all, in the end there can only be one room for me in my resting ground.

It Is Finished

I have finally reached a decision closing another chapter in my life and for the first time, I feel relieved. I am ready for the next chapter and I cannot wait to live it.

I am glad and thankful for I am surrounded with true friends who would not question my decisions and are very supportive. I am lucky to have real friends who would stand by me and are willing to lend a hand without asking for anything in return.

I have so much to thank for, and surprisingly, I am genuinely happy in my current state.

Time heals indeed. I have no question about it.

I sincerely hope that after tonight, I can finally say, it is really finished.

Point and Shoot

Part of my work is to take photos. I not only take photos for keepsake, but I take photos to tell a story. I am not a professional photographer,I just point and shoot, but I take pride in what I do. It is not just about the camera,mostly it is about the eyes that sees through the viewfinder. My eyes are the pen, the camera would be the paper, the photos are my stories.

I used to have a friendster account and I have posted there most of my photos of Tawi-Tawi back in the days when I was still with WWF-Philippines. Most of my photos were literally stolen. Irresponsible tagging without properly acknowledging the author, the person who took the photograph. Working for the Information and Education Campaigns of the Coastal Resources and Fisheries Conservation Project of WWF-Philippines, I have learned basic ethics in photography.

1. Respect for the subjects of the photograph.

2. Acknowledge the subjects of the photograph.

3. Acknowledge the craft by acknowledging the owner of the photograph.


There are at least two basic no-no's in photography;

1. Passing Off, which is a misrepresentation or taking advantage of the work of another by passing it off as one's own; and

2. Plagiarism, which is basically basing an image on the work of another without reworking, or using text authored by someone else without giving credit.

So for all those who want to have my photographs, I would not mind giving them to you if it would mean more people seeing what I have seen in these photographs, but please do give credit when due.

Tawi-Tawi is indeed a beautiful place and you can have some of my photos on your facebook wall, but acknowledgment would not hurt, would it?

Through The Rains

One year ago today
the whole of Metro Manila was submerged in water.
I was silently watching it unfold on cable television
at the dormitory I shared with 4 other bar candidates.

It was the last Sunday of September.
The last 2 exams for the bar.

We could not get any food that day
because the water has already reached the stairs
and to go out would entail swimming in filthy flood water.

I remember looking out of my room's window,
mothers carrying food supplies for their children
not minding the rain and half of their bodies submerged in water.

I was too preoccupied to care.
I did not mind the seemingly unstoppable rain
as I was drowning inside.

I had a different storm to battle with at that moment
and I just could not care less.

Remembering it now I feel really sorry,
not because I failed the bar and a friendship failed,
but because I was a fool to believe in that friendship
and I was stupid enough to have concentrated on that
instead of just focusing on the reason
for being there in the first place.

But most of all, I am sorry because I did not listen to my heart.

To all those who have lost a loved one, a dog, a house
during that storm,
I am sorry.

Today, we look back, we remember, we feel sorry,
but we have moved on,
and we have definitely made it through the rain.

Broken Winged Bird

the night seems still but not my heart
i beckon a song
but it slips my tongue
i cannot remember
the last time
i felt deeply restful
when the stars just glow
and the sky is nothing but blue.

from a friend
this i post
to those wanting to know
or plainly just curious
here is what
i wish to share
when no one is there
or simply couldn't care.

The Bird That Couldn't Fly © By Rebecca Bagley

You couldn't understand,even if you tried,the reason that she cries at night,the reason she tries to hide.

Don't try to come close,she'll just push you away,there's something that you don't know,words she couldn't say.

She tries with all her might,to be herself around her friends,but something doesn't feel right,a broken heart that could not mend.

She pretends that she's strong,a tough outer shell,but there's always something wrong,she's trapped in her Hell.

She wants to speak,to tell you all the truth,but she is way too weak,broken without any glue.

Painfully shy;the bird that couldn't fly.Dying on the inside;a body without a mind.

Maybe if you took the time,find the person she tries to be.

Maybe if you looked inside,you'd realize she is me."

Trust

After pouring my heart out to someone about something and someone else,
and finding out a friendly tolerance between them,
I am brought back again to a certain point in my life very recently,
when I fell victim of my own naive trust-giving self.

I still carry that torch,
and yes, I have an issue with trust.

For someone who has been bruised and betrayed,
trust is something of utmost importance,
as if her dear life is dependent on it.

My heart breaks easily,
when without a shadow of a doubt
trust is given and is broken so easily.

I could not quite grasp it,
which part of the "healing process" I earnestly confessed
was not understood?

From someone more experienced,
who has been in the pit as I am,
whom I have known because of trust itself,
have me feeling this empty.

Lately

I find myself smiling lately.

The caring words,

the way you make me laugh,

the funny faces,

the thoughtful smiles

and the warm hellos.

I can hear the beat.

I could dance.

Now I have something to look forward to everyday.

Yes I am smiling a lot lately.

It is all because you make me.

The Cloud That Was A Dream

Sitting still in a faraway land, thinking about the life I have left behind, I have come this far to stop and listen.

Silence can be deafening and yet I hear it and it is pounding my head.

A shattered dream I can actually hear but too numb to even feel.

I was once young and undaunted, unafraid to face the world in the hopes of living a dream.

Somewhere I have lost the power to steer the wind that blows the energy that comes with youth.

Somewhere I have stumbled and the fall was too painful I have not forgiven myself.

I was lost and found myself again and ran away.

The cycle was becoming vicious and I lost all control.

I lost the grip but still I held on for my dear life, for the sake of those who do not know me and yet love me unconditionally.

The cloud was too heavy and it followed my every move.

The torch I have been carrying for far too long is crippling me beyond reasons.

Yet, I held on.

I have come to this faraway land, in the hopes of healing and finding myself.

I have not been here too long, and I heard the news that struck a lightning unto that cloud.

The familiarity of it is without a doubt shaking me inside.

I am drowning and I feel like giving up makes it easier.

Yet why does it feel so heavy to give it up?

Is it because I have exerted so much effort and so much time that I forgot who I really am and what I want to be?

But that is who I am and that is what I want to be.

It hurts me that I cannot look pass the pain and try again.

I have reached that stage when I have to make calculated steps with my indecisions.

But in my heart of hearts I can.

If only I can forgive myself. If only I can find the strength to be patient. If only I can.

Sleepwalk

In slumber
fervent and soothing
when hope can seem endless
or otherwise stale,
I find myself awake.

The realities of the waking
are nothing more than that of the dreaming.

Caught in between
with the weight of the pains inside,
I walk the earth with an invisible cane.

And what of the path
narrow and steep,
I must keep walking
for no reason at all.

And I find that crippling beyond all reasons
beyond imagining
beyond all of mind's escapes.

Neverwhere

It is not easy to watch other people live their dreams.

It is even harder living a dream not yours but someone else's.

Looking back, I had a few of my own.

I was younger, undaunted and unafraid.

I had the world on my feet.

Now all I am is nothing but a dreamer.

A wanderlust, a vagabond.

I just cannot seem to touch the ground.

I am hurting that I have failed to live the dreams I have grown to believe are my own.

I hurt even more realizing that dreams are not mine for the dreaming.

The pendulum sways and that is all there is to it.

I am here but I am not there.

I just simply exist.

I envy those who have dreams for dreams keep them going.

and I

am neverwhere.

My Independence Day

Today I am saying goodbye to you.
Though I must admit
there is a twinge deep within the recesses of my being.
But you are one of the reasons why I took a leave of absence
from my day to day existence
in the life I have been so comfortably sheltered.

Today, you do not mean the world to me,
not anymore.
As I clumsily search for life's deeper meaning
you definitely no longer have a place
in my heart.

I must admit though that I have subjected myself
to willingly wait and suffer for this love unrequited
but I cannot stand still
not anymore.

The ride with you was definitely worth the fall,
but I must pick up the pieces now
and stand up again, not for you,
no, not even for someone else,
but there is this person I have to love more now,
this is why today, I declare it to be my independence day.

Today is my independence day.
Free from you, free from my fears of tomorrow, free from loving no one else,
but me, myself and I.

Goodbye to you.
The memories will surely linger,
but that is all there is to it,
nothing else matters now.

Journeying On

Today I have just received the confirmation
that I am indeed taking on this journey
in a faraway land
where new hopes can be build
and wounds can be healed.

All of the possibilities
and all of the uncertainties
would form part of my new journey
and with these I hope to keep myself grounded,
so that I can be a better version of myself eventually.

A new found friend said,
nothing can better prepare me more than being actually there.
An old friend wished me to become a butterfly,
to experience the possibilities and the uncertainties,
so that I could come back home beautifully.

I have been warned of the hardships
and everything else but the easy.
I hope that the hot summer days there
could melt the coldness in me.
And I hope the cold winter days there
could warm my otherwise stale mind.

And what of the heart?
who knows what the heart can learn,
and though it can be controlling
some things can tame it too.
Eventually is even better than actually.

At the start of this journeying on
while I am at the end of my preparation to leave,
I pray that I will be able to touch the lives of the people
I will be serving through sharing of my skills while in placement.
they will, definitely touch mine.

An Itch

There is a part of me that wants to keep holding on
a greater part of me that wants to let go,
and then there is this itch too distracting to ignore.

It all started with a smile.
Late night text exchanges till the break of dawn.
Drawn to really listen or was it all about that impish smile.

But whatever it was that got you near me,
You had me listening and you had me really take a good look at you.
I saw you. I saw through you. I even met the other side of you.

It was one hell of a joy ride.
The complications, the distractions, the bitterness, the loneliness and the joys
the ride with you was worth the fall.

It was not very long but it was worth a thousand years of life's lessons learned.
In my heart of hearts I know I have come full circle,
but I could not help myself with one more wish.

I wish that we had not been what we became
so we could (have) become what we were supposed to be
because we would have been better.

There are those who are better friends than lovers
and those that are better lovers than friends,
we are the former.

Now, I fear I am losing you because we failed at both.
But I am afraid even more because I might be losing you because I want to
and not because I have to.

There is a valuable lesson I have learned
and I shall take it with me as I journey on.
I have you to thank for this lesson.

There is an itch too distracting to ignore,
but as I succumb to it
I feel restful and satisfied.

Words

It was the way you dress up that caught my attention.
You had me listening because you were good with words.
Words always get me.
I am not sure though what it is this time.
One thing is for sure though,
I may find you interesting and I may be drawn into you,
but I would definitely choose to be a friend more than anything else.

Words.
Just words.

A Butterfly

"Manang, I wanna see a beautiful butterfly next year, okay?", a very dear friend's birthday wish that got me feeling blessed and lucky despite everything that has happened to me in the last 5 years.

She is the surprise gift I have never expected to come into my life.

A few days ago I felt a bit sad, perhaps I was just having the birthday blues, or maybe I was slipping in a melancholic mood knowing that I am relocating soon in a foreign land with no one to turn to as I settle in.

I could not speak of it less I be accused of being emotional again, so I just simply act and speak unkindly and at times rudely to those who come near me so no one sees what's boiling inside me.


I am at peace venturing on this journey knowing that I have this opportunity to make myself better and then paying it forward, though in my heart of hearts I feel that I won't be missed and that is alright but the messianic complex in me speaks softly that I am not needed here anymore and strangely I find that heartbreaking.

Yesterday, I met up with a dear friend, my confidant, my shock absorber, the one who listens to me when no one would, who lifts me up when it feels the world is heavy upon my shoulder. The one who never stops encouraging me even when I have already given up on my dreams, who keeps nagging me that I should pack up some law books and still review for the bar, even when I have already given up on that.

Her confidence in me is so overwhelming that she has actually convinced me that I still deserve another chance, one shot at the bar before finally waving the white flag.

Today and 365 days from now, I will throw my cares to the wind, to heal, and to learn to appreciate myself more, and love myself first.

To Manang, I will not promise I will be better but I will try my very best to be good, to smell the flower, to take my time to appreciate the simplest of things, to be patient, to be compassionate, to be kind, and to choose to love, to give less of myself and receive more for myself, and then hopefully I will be better eventually, and actually turn into the butterfly you wish me to be.

I could not thank you enough, but thank you for accepting me for who and what I am when no one is watching, for making me love the very person that I am. Love you always and I will be missing you more. When you want to hear ghost stories, you can find me in my zoo :-)

I wish to share a beautifully written note from My Manang...

Manang, I wanna see a very beautiful butterfly next year okay? Go through the process Manang,
caterpillar= you now; eating of leaves=experiences in India;
turning into a cocoon=realizations, let them sink in-you have all the alone time you need;
emerging of a butterfly=the best manang, ready to spread her wings!

Happy birthday Manang! This year will be your year, your chance to get to know your true self and to shine is finally here. Make the best out of this rare opportunity. I will be missing you a lot but I am definite that after a year, when we meet again, you will be a happy, fulfilled and contented Terri. I love you manang, always remember that you are loved by many. Mwah! take care always!

(for JMTE)

A Good Deed

Last night I became a recipient of a good deed from a stranger. I had no extra money to give as tip to the Taxi driver of plate number TWT816, so now I vow to pay it forward to another stranger.

I won't be telling what good deed I would be paying forward to someone else because it will cease to be a good deed.

I am just going to share the experience as it made me feel good and hope that it will encourage you to still believe in the goodness of everyone, no matter how small the value, or how irrelevant it may seem.

A good deed is a good deed worthy to be mentioned and acknowledged.

I have had this cough for almost a month now, and it is becoming productive, and the bad relapse of my sinusitis make my breathing hard. My doctor prescribed some over the counter medicines as this may be astmatic bronchitis. Worried it may worsen before my departure to India or that it may indeed become worse in India because of the change in temperature, I used the last of my pocket money (after giving my share of the bills) to buy the medicines that I have to take for a week.

My roommate and I went to the mall to pay the bills, withdrew the last of my savings, and bought the meds. The total cost was 729.50 php. This was not part of my budget, but I thought that if I could buy a pack of cigarettes a day, that is just 3 weeks of smoking money, and it is now taking its toll on me. We passed by the supermarket then took the taxi back to the apartment. Stopping near the gate I gave the driver 500 pesos bill and he quickly returned the exact change of 450 pesos. I said my usual "salamat po" and then alighted.

We prepared for dinner and chatted away. Later on at dinner, I have realized my meds were not with me and that I must have left them in the taxi. I felt bad because I really do not have the extra money to buy again as I have to save what little money I have for my fare to attend the training for my voluntary service overseas assignment.

What can one do under the circumstance but sleep things off. As I prepared to go to bed, Barrister my dog was barking loudly which usually means the irritating sound of the buzzer at the gate. My roommate went down to check. She returned with my meds. Apparently, the taxi driver asked those manning the water station near the gate to locate us so he could return the medicines dahil baka kailangan. He returned and went out of his way to give me back my medicines.

I felt undeserving of the good deed because I must have acquired this bad cough and cold from smoking and living an unhealthy lifestyle anyway, and I did not even give him a tip. But it made me feel good about myself somehow thinking that I must have done something right as well to deserve the kindness. I was not able to thank him personally so I vow to pay it forward, and maybe, just maybe, I must consider it a sign to quit smoking.

But then, this is not about me, this is dedicated to Manong Driver of the Taxi with plate number TWT816, maraming salamat po at sana makasakay uli ako sa inyo para kayo ay mapasalamatan.

The Day I Fell InLove With My Bestfriend

We were never cut out for relationships because we were too proud to be independent.

We were comforted by the fact that we never have to be alone in the first place because we had each other.

We get by. We manage. We move along just fine.

You had your life and I had mine, and when we stopped, we had each other and we talked, and talked some more.

You enjoyed the company of your friends doing the things not most of us can do at that time, but for some reasons even you could not explain, you found my company no matter how boring and dull and quiet, absolutely comforting.

You told me that really I am just a girl wanting to be needed and in need to be wanted, and compared me to a shell.

That being tough on the outside is just my way of protecting what is on the inside.

I resented you for telling me the truth and I felt the twinge because deep down I knew then that I was already losing a piece of me for letting you in and letting my guard down.

I remember that day you grabbed me close to you not wanting to let me go and you kissed me, and I let you.

I completely surrendered.

I only pulled away when I realized what it meant.

The day I fell in love with you was the day I lost my bestfriend.

I miss you. I miss talking to you and with you.

I miss the notes we passed to each other everyday.

I miss arguing with you. I miss you. I really do.

Neverwhere

It is not easy to watch other people live their dreams.

It is even harder living a dream not yours but someone else's.

Looking back, I had a few of my own.

I was younger, undaunted and unafraid.

I had the world on my feet.

Now all I am is nothing but a dreamer.

A wanderlust, a vagabond.

I just cannot seem to touch the ground.

I am hurting that I have failed to live the dreams I have grown to believe are my own.

I hurt even more realizing that dreams are not mine for the dreaming.

The pendulum sways and that is all there is to it.

I am here but I am not there.

I just simply exist.

I envy those who have dreams for dreams keep them going.

and I

am neverwhere.

Ironies

How heavy
the heart
that's empty
how light
the heart
that's full.

Sleepwalk

In slumber
fervent and soothing
when hope can seem endless
or otherwise stale,
I find myself awake.

The realities of the waking
are nothing more than that of the dreaming.

Caught in between
with the weight of the pains inside,
I walk the earth with an invisible cane.

And what of the path
narrow and steep,
I must keep walking
for no reason at all.

And I find that crippling beyond all reasons
beyond imagining
beyond all of mind's escapes.

Fear

I am afraid
that when this ordeal is over
it will finally be over
and I am afraid
forgiveness I might not be able to give
that easily.
When at last I will take a stand
I am afraid
I will disappear
from your presence
forever.

Faraway

I am here
yet
I am
far
far
far
faraway.

Sometimes...

Sometimes it is not just about who you love
but about who loves you the most when you are feeling a little less loved.

Sometimes it is not just about who you care
but about who cares the most when you do not.

Sometimes it is not just about that someone wanting you
but about who wants you knowing that you want someone else.

Sometimes it is not just about being with a person you are used to
but about who is there even if you are not used to being with.

Sometimes it is not just about love
but it is also about friendship, respect and laughter.

Sometimes all it takes is a little less love,
a little less of virtues, a little less expectations
to patch a wound, to heal, to start anew.

A Siopao and A Coke

I was seventeen or eighteen and he was twenty five.
I was auditioning for a radio stint
and it was his voice I heard telling me that I passed.
He was mentoring me and I was nervous all the time.
He would drop the needle and play the music
and my young heart skipped every time.
I knew then that I had to break up with my first
as phone calls and love letters and stuffed toys
just did not do the trick any longer.
For the first time in my life, I have hurt someone's feelings
I felt guilty but I knew in my heart it was for the best.
The Man became my little unknown world
and every baby step I took I took with caution
and with so much gusto.
Filled the newsroom with gifts and flowers
but with the little notes and the sweet gestures
he made me feel like a woman.
My biggest decision was to spend one new year's eve with him
because I knew then that whatever happens
it will be because we have consented to it.
Acting out on an emotion was just too exciting
and scary at the same time.
We were in his car that night by the beach.
No fireworks. No one else was there.
Sitting next to him wrapped around his warmth
I felt contentment. I felt shielded.
I did not wish to be anywhere else.

He and the rest moved to another radio station
I preferred to stay.
There was still so much to learn.
We still met every night before my curfew.
Different feelings every time.
Till one day, a friend of ours told me
the story of a coke and a siopao.

I was an object of a bet.
He gets me, the friend will treat him a coke and a siopao.
He doesn't, he will treat the friend the same.
They both did not get the price for their bet.
For I was neither his nor was he able to "get" me.
Young and gullible as I was,
he just showed me kindness and persuaded me with sheer sweetness.
I was much obliged.

Then came another story.
This time, from him.
The ex was pregnant and it was his.
I simply asked, how did that happen?
but I did not want to know.

I heard him on the radio
played me the song,
"Waiting for a Star to Fall" by Boy Meets Girl
he said for his little princess
and I heard my heart break for the first time.

It has been many years now
and the story of the coke and a siopao
remains in my heart.
But we remained friends.

I saw him again last year
and after late lunch and coffee with another friend
I moved to ask if I could kiss him.
Just one harmless kiss
so I will not have to wander about thinking
what was it like to kiss The Man.
He leaned forward, bent a little
and we kissed.
He said he is married and with two kids.
I said I was only stealing a kiss.
He thought I was getting back
for the siopao and the coke,
and I simply said no that was just for me.
He never dared to kiss me then
back when i was young and gullible
fearing I'd break
for I was just to him, a budding flower.

We met again recently
under different circumstances.
Things changed and I like it.

For a Rose

It was a single dare that got us together. I was surprised to find myself comfortably enjoying times spent with you. We clicked. We danced the tide. We share moments of joy that pushed each other's sadness away. We found comfort in each other's misery, and we danced some more.

In our desperate attempt to forget, and beat the troubles down, we pushed it too hard and did the unthinkable, for as long as we were together. In that desolate place, we found our solace.

The good times spent came to an end as my realities were too grand to ignore, and I was left with no choice but to decide on what is best.

I did not leave you alone. I was just away for a while to chase a rainbow for whatever its worth. It took me a while to make up my mind but when I started packing, I knew then if I looked back I would have stopped myself. It was as if you heard my thoughts because you did not show up. No goodbyes, we promised.

I left with a heavy heart because you would be left alone, but I was comforted by the promises we have made and I did what I had to do.

Time flew and my return was met with sad realities, and once again, I forgot. I have forgotten why I left and why I have returned.

I have failed you as a friend. My best was not good enough, and I have not tried hard enough.

I am sorry.

I know things are not the same anymore, but I have faith that there will be better days, and that you will shine above it all.

you are a rose and these thorns will only make you stronger and better.

I am still here.

I have not gone that far.

I have forgiven you and I hope that you have forgiven me.

Forgiving myself would be the hardest part, but time heals all wounds.

No goodbyes. Only hellos.

Excess Baggage

Cleaning up my closet was the first thing I did today, as I have to move again in seach for my place in the stars.

A journey has ended and another one begins.

My life these past years consisted of packing up and unpacking, and then packing up some more. I give up some and gain more.

I actually find it therapeutic.

One by one I cleared my closet and I could not believe the number of baggage I have accumulated. From old love letters to highlighters, worn out shoes to happy meal toys, dried up roses pressed between pages of thick books to stuffed animals that have collected dust, and other things I cannot even remember what they are for.

Suddenly, it dawned on me, I do have a problem. I cannot seem to throw stuff away. For the sentimental values and what its worth, or maybe just my lousy rationalization.

It also occurred to me that I may have a bigger problem. I cannot seem to let go.

I must admit, denial is my third name and I am very good at hiding. I reckon, it is easier to see things in a negative way so when things wont work out the way I have hoped them to be, it would not hurt so bad, thus my seemingly endless cynicism.

There were also those times when I did put my heart on the line and risked breaking it and getting bruised, and letting go seemed to be an eternal curse.

Like my old stuffs in my closet, clinging to those failures and mistakes seemed like an easier way to escape. Afraid that throwing those stuffs away would mean losing the sentimental reasons for keeping them in the first place.

Afraid that letting go would mean losing a part of me that is broken. Getting used to my brokenness prevented me from healing, for in my misery I have found my solace.

Now I have realized that for me to go far, I have to travel light. I must throw away unnecessary baggage and to throw my cares to the wind.

I do not need things to remind me of the past, as it will infinitely be indelible in my mind and in my heart. It is just so amazing how the mind works.

Ironically, my moving on this time means going back. It is not deja vu but a reality check for me. Maybe I will make the same mistakes, maybe I wont. Maybe I will make it this time, maybe I wont. Maybe there will be more tears, or maybe there will be more laughter. I would not know for sure unless I try again.

Life is a bitch, and yes shit happens. I just have to deal with it.

I must choose to chance the rapids and dare to dance the tide.

Sway

I look into your eyes,

I bathe in their warmth.

Your gaze,

has so much meaning,

that we speak without a word.

I hold your hand,

and you grasp mine.

Your grip is steadying,

reassuring,

one from which i draw my strength.

I draw you close,

and in your embrace,

fervent and soothing,

I am content.

I am at home.