nandyan yung saya na nakapagpapagaan at tipong naiaangat ka sa puntong para bang nahahawakan mo na ang mga ulap

tapos nandyan din naman yung lungkot na sobrang nakapagpapabigat, yung lungkot na parang bumabalot sa ulo mo, nanginginig, nakapanlalaki ng mga mata, isang panloob na bagyong hinihintay mo na lang tumila

We would have to thank the stars--

--not because they aligned that particular amazing, incredible, wonderful day we first met, but because they have managed to keep their order ever since and throughout our amazing, incredible, wonderful friendship.

And, without further ado:

Happy birthday, Jai!

We can write you the cheesiest poems or sing you the tackiest songs, but that would obviously be too. . .cheesy and, well, tacky. . .for your liking.

(We can also draw the most random of things, but we've already done that. Probably way too much.)

Hence, we offer you the one thing people would usually hesitate to offer and that is--

(This pause is to give you time to prepare yourself.)

(Are you prepared now?)

(No? One more second, then.)

(Okay.)

--our dignity.

Holy crap. I miss you so much.

I am only connected to you now via the music you introduced me.

I miss you.

Your face.
Your voice.
Your smile.

I miss the five seconds (or more) for when we would be standing next to each other. Even without words.

I miss you. I really, really miss you.

Labels: mir

hi, it's me again.

this might come to you as creepy (and a tad cliche), but my heart was beating so fast as we talked about the music we liked (you kept saying, "I like old(er?) songs") and when I brought up madeon (pronouncing at as "mah-di-yon") you said you did not really know how to pronounce it so you settled with "made-on" and your obsession with christopher nolan and how mind-blown you were the second time you watched memento, your "favorite movie of all time!!!" and I would twitch whenever you smiled because it would always be my reflex to look at you and at the mole on the spot right under your nose.

in the theater, upon choosing our seats, I was behind you and you were all, "after you" like the southern gentleman that you were and I was still calm, much to my surprise. I went ahead and sat in the second seat, creating a 2/3 probability that you would be sitting next to me (sorry, okay); fortunately, statistics was in my favor.

this will only be getting creepier, don't worry.

so, then, the live band played. at first, in my head, it was all "oh my goodness, these guys are incredible" but, as the bass became heavier, the fact that you were beside me at that moment, that we were surrounded by such beautiful music and I could see you tap your feet as I lightly bobbed my head to the rhythm, it was all too much for me I literally could not breathe and I should have told you that "I'm glad we came here" (for it was true as heck) but did not. right now, though, I am just hoping you did not see my terribly useless struggle to avoid shaking all over.

I am really happy and I partly thank you for it. the place has become a part of a nice new memory for me. the next time I come back, I shall eat at that restaurant you mentioned just to try that dish which, according to you, "tastes like sadness."

Labels: mir, sort of a stream of consciousness lol

I used to love looking at sunflowers, mainly because they happened to be yellow, and the polo shirt you wore that day was of the same color -- that day when you handed her a rose as part of a performance, and I hated that particular rose -- and I took the first letter of her name and used it as the first letter of the murder victim's name in the fiction I was working on back then, and you never really believed in fiction but you did write a bit of poetry, and your mouth was poetry in itself and I would stitch your words into a single verse and sing it, in a melody so distinct to how I felt for you and how you filled my void; and the paradox of how I felt devoid of any emotion when I thought of how you could never feel the same way and how I could never fill your void was overwhelming; and your mind was overwhelming as it seemed to me as a vast world I could get lost in any minute, and I was lost in your eyes, null but not exactly dull, and if black could be as bright as that yellow polo shirt you wore that day then the adjective would be appropriate, unlike those feelings, so even if you are always on my mind, I never think about you now.

I'm not afraid to feel.
I just don't want to be anyone's fallback.
That is all.

"You know, 'opposites attract' is an excuse made by people who are either too lazy to look or too impatient to wait for their perfect match."

"There is no perfect match, though."

"Only 'right', huh? That, too. See, 'nobody' slash 'nothing is perfect' is an excuse made by people who settle for less. Why do you think relationships fall apart?"

"Fights? Third parties?"

"Not totally. Here: when the 'perfect for each other' couple fails to be so perfect at one point, they have a level to go down to: the 'just right for each other' level. Couples at this level must fear, on the other hand. A single needle through a balloon and poof!"

"So..."

"So. My point is that fights and third parties are only secondary. The primary cause of break-ups is the pre-togetherness process failure. Couples fail to read the Love Readiness Meter accurately. Worse, people just choose the wrong people."

"You...are so skeptical."

"And you are just gullible."

Labels: bleh, dialogue, love

I often wondered how the two of you would interact, given the fact that you are both known to be quite reserved. I used to come up with possible fragments of every conversation you've had, questioned myself if such conversations, with me, weren't impossible for you to initiate. I remembered because, well, I had a dream the other day -- and let's just say it opened the door to one of the countless possibilities. Honestly, though, it was the only part of the dream I could recall, but the only part I would want to forget all the same.

This isn't anything serious
but I think I need to tell you
It won't work, though
I know it won't
It's just weird
how songs like this one get to me
I get the biggest urge to cry all so suddenly
The song's not even sad
I just think of you
then
BOOM
"As for girls who confess to him,
he actually gives them a chance
and asks them out"
But I don't want to be asked out
when you're in the process of asking someone else out
I don't want to exist
when your gestures have proven ineffective
for the person you're existing for

Boo.

You
are
a
chip
which
tries
to
soak
itself
in
every
dip
in
sight.

Don't
get
into
mine.

(and, yes, this is inspired by that Twitter trending topic; judge all you want; and holy pancake i miss writing)

I want you to be awkward with me sometimes. Being awkward means wanting to say things you probably cannot casually say. Be open, but not too much. Be frank, but not tactless. Keep me surprised. Keep me curious.

I love you, and I want to cuddle. We don't even have to talk. I want your arms around me. I want my face buried in your neck. I want to look at you, to see you, to be looked at by you, and to be seen by you. I want to memorize your scent, and I want it mixed with mine.

Horror movies are my favorite. I hope you watch some of them with me sometime. I won't ask you to act brave, okay? Feel free to be scared. I won't laugh at you. Or maybe I will. But you should know that, throughout the film, my hand will be free for you to hold.

Be friends with my (best) friends. Be family with my family. Love them as much as you will love me. After all, they will be the first to want to beat you up after our first fight. You know what they say: "Know your enemy."

(Quick interruption: I love you!)

Oh, and please, please know how to cook, for I do not know how to be a full woman. Grease splattering frightens me. I keep my distance from a hot pan. I like a well-cooked yolk, and every time I turn the egg around, it either gets distorted or sticks to the surface. So please know how if you would want us both alive. (Or, at least, be patient enough to teach me.)

I find it hard to sleep without a blanket. Or a bunch of pillows to drown me away into Slumberland.

There will come a day when you will see me in front of my laptop, spreading female-tears-induced chemicals all over the place which you will possibly hate, but you have to understand that I really love crying -- over well-drawn manga, over beautifully shot films, over tragic plots, over my favorite characters which eventually die, over still-living characters I would actually want dead, over a new set of quality earphones, over my brother's first prom, over my baby cousin's first day of school, over your sad childhood stories and your funny college ones (which definitely deserve tears of absolute joy).

Lastly, please notice. Notice the things I'm either too lazy or too forgetful to tell you here. This is all your currently 19-year-old will-be lover (because 'partner' is boring, and 'girlfriend' makes me want to punch someone) can think of at the moment. Meanwhile, you may relax, as I convert your beautiful will-be words into poetry.

Labels: bleh, love, open letter

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, shoot."

"What do I mean to you?"

"Well, aside from the fact that you're my hushed lover. . . ."

"Be serious, please."

"Fine, fine. Honestly, I've never thought about it yet."

"Do you like me?"

"Sure."

"Like, do you see me as your girlfriend or whatever?"

"Aren't we already -- okay, okay, you can stop glaring now -- hm."

"Do you like someone? Anyone?"

"I find a few girls here and there fairly attractive."

"Am I attractive to you?"

"Will you stop it with the questions? You're being annoying as hell."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. Okay. Sorry."

"...."

"I feel different when I'm with you. Like, I'm just really happy and shit. You're different, okay? You're different from the other girls I've been with. Or have almost been with. Whatever."

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Just....thanks. Really."

"I wonder why I keep hanging out with you. You are so weird."

1. These days, I tear up at the slightest tinge of sadness in everything. I'd like to say you aren't the cause, but -- well, you are.


2. You have the prettiest hair. Once, I was able to muster the courage to finally tell you how much I liked it, and you replied with a "Thanks, it's new." Moments after, a common friend broke The News and I realized I was back to Stage Zero. So much for progress.


3. Your glances are nerve-wracking. Please stop. I'd rather you don't look at me at all. Every quick eye contact is a strong Mjölnir whack to the heart, and I absolutely cannot bear it.


4. Your face has superpowers. One moment, you have the sternest expression on; the other, you smile with your #1 Goofball smile, and I just think you make the world a better place.


5. Your face is stupid. Just wanted to get that out.


6. You make me feel stupid (in a stupendously stupefying way). Your flaws are so amazingly hidden (that is, if they did exist), I can only cry.


7. Your voice and your diction are perfect. I am envious. (Tip: Don't ever speak nor sing to me -- by all means, I will keep the conversation going so I would have to listen to you go on forever, never missing a syllable.)


8. I see you smile at her every remark, laugh each time she laughs, be wherever she has to be, and yet I don't hate her at all. That does not mean it never hurts, though. It always does. Sometimes, even, I prefer just getting a slap in the face instead. The focus, at least, would be the resulting physical pain, and a shifted focus would mean forgetting, even for a while. I'm desperate.


9. You (with no effort at all) make me like you, but, for some reason, it always seems impossible to make you like me. Sad.

Labels: mir

I do not know what this is,

but I do know that I want you to be happy.


Move your tushie and get her back!

When I told you that the look I gave you was not of anger,
I lied.

I'm sorry, but what you said honestly hurt my feelings more than you thought it did.

I'm sorry, I am unable to tell you everything simply because I am clueless as to how I would do so.

As you might already know, we are not exactly the closest of friends -- we rarely even hang out -- so I don't see how I can just plant all these details about me into your head and be completely fine with it.

I just wish you would understand.

Siguro.

Pwede rin namang hindi.

Bakit ba ako naghihintay? Kung tutuusin, wala naman akong karapatang umusyoso. Kung tutuusin, hindi ko naman dapat nalaman 'to.

Hindi na dapat ako nag-aabang. Darating naman na iyan. Malapit na, alam ko. Sa mga darating na araw, malamang, malalaman na rin ng lahat.

Sa mga darating na araw, mapipilitan na akong tanggapin ang kakailanganin kong tanggapin, gustuhin ko man o hindi.


Wala na talaga.


Sa mga panahong ito, nararapat lang sigurong isaisip ko na ang kinatatayuan ko. Naging sapat ang oras, pero mayroon ba akong nagawa? Wala. Hindi nagkulang sa time, pero nagkulang sa effort.

Masyado akong naging kampante.

Masyado akong nagtiwala sa ideya na naka-kahon ka. At, sa kahong iyon, may maliit na butas kung saan, kahit paminsan-minsan, nakasisilip ako. Kahit paano, sa naka-kahong mundo mo, nagkakaroon ako ng access.

Sa ganyan ka-simpleng bagay, naging masaya na ako.


Pero, teka. Ano bang nangyari?


Una, nagka-plano ako. Okay naman noong simula.

Okay naman, pero nag-backfire.


Teka.


Pangalawa, gusto ko nang kalimutan 'to, trust me.


Sandali lang.

Pangatlo, masaya naman ako para sa'yo eh.


Nagkakataon lang na, sa bawat oras na nakalipas matapos ang araw na iyon,


nalulungkot talaga ako.


Sorry.

Labels: mir

Up to that moment, I've always thought that knowing more about you would only do me good; that, with every piece of information I would obtain, I would be happy.
After all, it would be about you -- the nearby neighborhood which, for some reason, I have never been able to set foot on.

Up to that moment, I've held on to the idea that, at one point in our primarily abstracted lives, our avenues would meet at a perpendicular.

Which they did.

The thing is, I was never aware that, all the while, there was another avenue collinear to yours -- also advancing.


And, suddenly, this huge-ass roadblock fell on my end.


Vehicles never came in, never made a turn, always headed from your road

to that other road.


I was just so focused on reaching the point of probable intersection; I had my eyes only on my goal, that I never really attempted to look outside of it. I was so confident that the external factors were weak enough to interfere --

-- and I was completely, completely at a wrong.

So now, I am left here, totally helpless.

I've become an abandoned road (or maybe never even been of use, to begin with), an interrupted course,
waiting --


w a i t i n g


-- for the vehicles to wear your highway out.

Labels: mir

Finally,
you saw me.

You saw me,
held me,
spun me around at the palm of your hand.

But that was it.

As with every shiny coin you used to find,
in a matter of seconds,
the excitement would die down.

In the end,
you would always go back to your wrinkled dollar,
and I --

I would be just another coin
thrown into your well.

Labels: mir

"I can't like you. Not yet."

"Eh? Why not?"

"I can't, not until I am able to like you fully."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to be able to like you ... in the best possible kind of liking."

"The best--"

"Yep. The best possible kind. That kind, I believe, is the kind you deserve, and the kind achieved only when one has the desire to be not just good enough, but the greatest he can actually be for the other person. Incoming cheese: I want to be able to explore your world first. May I? I want to know every thing that travels through the littlest spaces in your mind. I want to know, and I want to experience each one -- in my own way, that is. Oh, and I won't change anything for you -- trust me on this. What I will do, however, is watch this list (of things I already know) expand, as I, slowly but surely, turn every stone in this incredibly vast world of yours."

"Well, you--"

"I can wait. And you better believe that! But, well, in the case that you decide not to wait with me, it'll be fine. I just want to deem myself worthy to like and be liked by you, I guess. It is, in a way, both selfish and selfless. I don't understand why this is so, but I almost like you. And your almost-effect is just something I don't ever need to analyze."

Labels: dream convos lolwat, short short

I wonder why I am still taken aback by this sudden wave of information. I have gotten to know, yes, without actually knowing (which is both impressive and peculiar), and I have gotten to know so much.

Labels: mir