isolated…

Thu 8 May 2008

kumbaga sa infected, naka-quarantine.
kumbaga sa accessories, detached.
kumbaga sa long distance, apart.
kumbaga sa video game, one-player.
kumbaga sa stars, di ma-reach.
kumbaga sa karne, tinga.
kumbaga sa chickenjoy, 1-piece.
kumbaga sa baraha, solitaire.
kumbaga sa pelikula, cast away…

ano raw? malabong kausap…? senyales din ba yun ng isolation? siguro nga… siguro nga…

ito ba yung feeling na mas trip mong kumain mag-isa pag lunchbreak na, kahit niya-yaya ka ng mga kaibigan at kasama mo. o ung manonood ka ng sine tapos wala kang katabi, samantalang yung iba eh enjoy na enjoy me kayakap sa lamig ng sinehan.

ung tipong sa loob ng classroom, mas gusto mong sa likuran ka lang, nasa tabi ng pinto, or nasa isang corner, walang kinakausap at katabi. or sa office, ung cubicle mo eh may malaking divider, na para bang may sarili kang mundo. sabihin na nating loner.

ung pakiramdam na 500+ naman ang contacts mo sa cellphone, pero wala kang madial, matext at makausap. or un bang nasa loob ka ng jeep na pangsampuhan, pero ikaw na lang yung pasahero at mahaba pa ung biyahe.

ito ba yung pakiramdam ng mga taong grasa sa kalye na namamalimos, na halos binalewala na ng lipunan? ito ba ung feeling na sa halos pitong bilyong tao sa mundo, iisa lang. oo, iisa lang siyang…

(pang-adik) eto ba ung nararamdaman mo pag tumititig ka sa araw na palubog na, na para bang pinadudugo muna ang langit bago tuluyang dumilim…

alam mo na ung sagot…

haaayy….

kader-der… isa na namang adik na post. living up to my blog header…

eto pambawi sa readers:

ahem…


illogical…

Mon 10 Sep 2007

imagine a little boy holding on to a balloon, never wanting to let it fly away… losing that one little, yet valuable thing is more than enough reason to have something to cry for. it can’t be helped. for some, it takes painstaking efforts just to go through the lost attachment. it’s the agony of observing what used to be your companion, just drift away from your sight. helpless, you can’t do anything about it.

still, illogical it may seem, you can’t just let yourself do nothing about it. although everything and everyone around tells you to just let go, you started to run. running, jumping and leaping, hoping you could still have a hold of even a tiny piece of the string.

it’s over… grow up. move on.

stories do need to come to an end. be it tragic, happy or anything in between. we may not always have a hold of what’s going to happen. but that’s the bittersweet essence of it. the risks, the pain, the joys… but when the most dreaded happens to you, it ain’t pretty at all. you endure the endless what if’s, and keep haunted by memories.

it’s over… consider it finished. and did IT even happen (to begin with)?

being dumbfounded by its enchanted fragrance and beauty, you hold on to a rose too tight that you’ve forgotten about the thorns. just when you’ve already wanted to release it, you’re already blinded and you squeeze even tighter, the thorns getting deeper into your palm. finally, you realize its the reason why your hands were bleeding all along

on a lighter note, there’s more to life than that. all’s been said and done. you knew everything all along, and you chose where you are right now. you knew what you’ve fought for. and you learned more of your heart, of the people around you, and of yourself. surely, things will be better again… surely.. better.. again… and when that most awaited day comes, you will be free to fly again…