Well, the guy's not really a "friend" but more like a likable person I know (since we're not exactly close).
Anyway, so my girl friend and I were there standing in line waiting to be let in inside le fair. And I saw my guy classmate in one of my classes this sem. So I greeted him.
I thought they're gonna be my newest perfect match. (Hell yeah! I'm a matchmaker. A good one. It's just that good matchmakers aren't exactly good with their own love lives, or the lack of it. XD)
Anyway, so there I was, I've been dreaming of the day that I can introduce them to each other because it just makes a lot of sense (for me at least), and I was effin' happy when, by chance!, they met.
We spent the fair sorta together at the start. And spent another day sorta together again. It was fun. And the thing is I was really ecstatic. I thought she's gonna be able to forget her scumbag ex. Finally.
But... She told me, while I was waiting for my parents to come fetch me, that...
"I'm not interested."
Wah! Dreams destroyed.
And the sad thing is, I really think he's an awesome guy. For gosh sakes, he's a gamer and gamers are COOL people (my brudder is. Although I'm especially careful not to tell him that). He is also an introvert (like me and her, I guess that's why we sorta clicked together). He likes music (and not trash music!). He is sorta into anime (people who are into anime are awesome, right?!). He does not cringe when we talk about おたく ふ女子 stuff (most guys I know, most especially my brudder dear, are especially sensitive to such topics). And he's nice. I think he's got a lot in common with her. But why is she not giving him the chance? Why?
Geez.
I hope he contacts me and asks me for help in pursuing her. I'd love him if he'd do just that. :D
P.S. And he's funny. The mud ice cream prank he did yesterday reminds me of my childhood and my childhood buddies. Do I like him? Fudge yeah. Who could not like such cool guy? But why doesn't she? Pfft. I knew it. Scumbag ex of hers. -____- Hehe.
Can I ask you to leave me? Even just for a teensy eensy weensy bit of moment? 'Cause I can't think straight. Thanks to you.
But don't worry dear. I'm not mad.
It's just that the knowledge of not being able to see you anymore. Or not knowing whether I'll ever see you and talk to you like before, well, it kills me. Okay, honestly? It makes me crazy.
But it's okay. I know I'll be okay. Soon. Hopefully.
The funny thing is that I wrote you a letter yesterday, a long one. But of course I know I'll never have the courage to actually send it to you. 'Cause, well, you might reject me. And I know that'll hurt like hell. Been there. Felt that.
Only, I know that this time, this time if I confess my feelings to you, and if you reject me (what am I saying I know you will, 'cause I know you only see me as a friend right?), when you reject me I know I'll be having a hard time trying to pick myself up.
Why? Because based from my past two heart aches, it's you who fits perfectly with the image I have of my dream boy. Well, not perfectly I see that now, because you're not staying.
The latest heart ache was two years ago. Occurred at the same time as my soul-searching mode in acads. It was a hell-like experience. Not because of him, my senpai crush, but more because of the lack of having someone to confide to regarding my decisions in life. Nonetheless, God saved me so here I am. (Why am I telling this to you? As if you're gonna find and read this no?)
I want you to know how much I actually like you
Maybe I'm telling this because I want you to know how much I actually like you, which is stupid since we've only known each other for a short period of time. A couple of months? Less even.
But have you ever felt that feeling that you've known someone for a long time already? That's the way I felt when I found you sitting beside me on the beach. I turned around to talk to our group mate and it's you I found sitting there. Why did you ever sit beside me? Why did you talk to me as if you and I are friends? We barely even talk the day before. Well, we held hands. I remember that.
that feeling that you've known someone for a long time already?
Haven't I warned you enough that I'm weird? That I'm an alien? And that I'm a hopeless Romantic? You should have listened. Then you might have spared my feelings. I know it's my fault for assuming too much but are you really blameless? Not that I'm blaming you really.
Forgive me.
For assuming. For falling for you.
And it so happens that you're the first actual guy I fell for after two years of building all those barriers and obstructions around me as to avoid, well, feeling like this. Actual because all the other guys I gushed on were celebs or characters in stories. I'm thinking I shouldn't have met you.
And you shouldn't have been like one of those characters I like. You should have known. But I'm not blaming you remember that.
And maybe I'm telling you all of this because I miss talking to you. There are still tons of things I wanted to tell you. But now you've left.
Remember that day too when you confided in me about your problems? I'm wondering why you did. It's not as if we're already close then. I mean, are you the kind of person who share his problem to random people? People you feel close to? People you trust? Person you like? (Oooppps.) Or am I really just the kind of person a lot of people feel easy to confide in? (I mean I'm my friends' counselor after all. A lot of people, even those I'm not close to, just feel easy around me hence they tell me their problems and actually listen to my advice.) Maybe that's just that no? And I'm just assuming a lot.
And now I'm feeling the pain for my stupidity. And wondering why I don't just tell you out loud what I feel. If only...
If you only knew how many times I wanted to cry out and ask for your hand to pull me up when we climbed that monstrous mountain. If you only knew how much I wanted to strangle a certain classmate because she's so pretty and my antennae is telling me (yes, I'm an alien right? I have an antennae that detects people's emotions. So there.) that she likes you and somehow you seem to like her back; and I can't compete with her because she's so pretty, and she's girly, while I'm this boyish kiddo who wears big clothes and who is small. (You always tease me that I'm poor little me. I'll admit that I miss you teasing me like that.) And if you only knew how much I wanted our picture taken together at the summit, but I didn't, for fear of being teased, for fear of you rejecting the idea, for fear of you finding out what I feel for you. I avoided talking much to you when we climbed that mountain. And I tried avoiding these feelings. Apparently, mahirap pala. Before I could avoid this kind of feeling, but I guess that was before I met you no?
If you only knew how much I wanted to hug when you were having the chills on the way home.
Before I could avoid this kind of feeling, but I guess that was before I met you no?
If you only knew that I wanted to volunteer myself in fulfilling your wish of a happy family.
Don't worry though, I won't force myself to you. That's why I'm writing this. That's why I'm repeatedly listening to Torete so I'll be reminded of my position in your life. Which is non-existent.
I told you that I find it hard to work on anything especially a story with a group right? I haven't been fully honest, because I wanted to add this:
But I'm willing to write a story about us with you. I'm willing to write and complete a story with you.
See how Torete I am about you?
I hope you'll stumble into this and read this. So that I'll know that I've successfully, for the first time, confessed to the first guy who I unashamedly written a lot of poems about.
Call me a crazy, obsessed fangirl. Maybe, indeed, I am. But it doesn't matter. What matters is that I love them. Yeah, you heard me right. I love them. I love DBSK.
Yesterday I bought my copy of MYX Mag The K-Pop Edition. I've been ransacking all bookstores I know since Tuesday trying to look for it. I failed. But yesterday, while I was busy doing my mother's groceries, I saw it. I saw it. And I almost squealed with delight. Almost.
A lucky day.
I bought it and started reading. Although I know the pages tributed for TVXQ would be few (very few, indeed, I found out later, only 2 freaking pages, but well, it's worth it), I still dread the article about them. Considering the fact that they are undergoing the biggest storm in their career (hehe, storm, I like that word a lot, I'm an Arashi fangirl too, mind you).
But I liked the article a lot. Especially the first few lines:
When we speak of the talented boy bands from Korea, there is one group that definitely comes to the mind of a true K-Pop follower. This is TVXQ---
True enough.
It's like you're the dumbest person alive if you claim to be an avid K-Pop lover yet not know about the existence of the gods.
They're the best. They're it. That's why everyone who claims to love K-Pop should know them. That's why most true blue K-Pop lovers adore them. And that's why I love them.
Anyway, the article, though not that touchy-feely puts me to tears.
I was literally crying bucketsful of tears.
Dang, I miss them. I miss reading news about the five of them together. I miss their laugh. Their jokes. And just about everything that concerns them.
God, I miss the five of them so much.
That is why, being the sensitive person that I am, I've written a poem for them. It's a weird poem though. I write stuff about people and things when I want to because I feel a strong need to do so but it is always accompanied with indifference (even just a dash of indifference), but this poem is different. It's all about my feelings about the five of them. All about the love I have for them. (Yes, I love Arashi as much, but please, allow me to offer this for DBSK, just DBSK.)
After being lost in touch with my blog for a month or two, here I am again, back with a broken heart. (haha!) Honestly.
All I can offer
(Don't wanna see you cry)
I don't want to lose you
Not now, not ever
I don't want to see too
the five of you not together
I don't want to hear your cries
Don't want to see your tears
I don't want you to tell me lies
while you're alone facing your fears
Your tears breaks my heart
Your cries kills me
You already are a part
of my life, can't you see?
I will cry for you, yes I will
I'll do it to spare you the pain
So please don't cry, don't make me feel
As if I can't shield you from the rain
Suki da, Te amo, I love you
You've been my gods, my guide
Listen, please, Saranghaeyo
Now, today, no matter what, forever by your side
I love them.
Honto ni.
Ta-ta for now. I'm on the brink of tears yet again. *sigh*
I can't imagine life without books, papers, pens, pencils and my beloved PC.
Fiiineee, honestly, I can imagine it, but I don't like it all the same.
Life without being able to put into words what you are currently feeling is life without being able to feel. A robot's life. A statue's life.
I can't live a life like that. I'd rather die.
Talk about death.
Fine, fine, fine. I'm not supposed to talk about death. I know.
Going back, writing according to this is considered as the representation of language in a textual mediumthrough the use of a set of signs or symbols. A representation of language that is. Also, an extension of human language across time and space. The way were history could be passed through aside from telling through the use of spoken language.
There is a long history about writing. Different informations about it. Different ways on how it was done through time. Different ways of writing depending on a person's culture and country.
Writing is essential to history. It is essential to man for many reasons known to man. And I, too, believe in those given reasons.
But in simpler words, writing, for me, is as important as breathing.
Picture this: 1:11 am na. Gising pa 'ko. Nakaharap sa computer habang umiinom ng medyo mainit na tsokolate. Astig 'no? 1:11 am. Tadhana.
Hindi ko alam kung naniniwala ba 'ko sa tadhana. Siguro oo. Ganoon 'ata talaga pag romantic kang tao. Hopeless romantic sabi ng mga kaibigan ko. Paano ba ako naging romantic? Siguro kasi masyadong exaggerated ang mga kwentong naiisip ko. Pati paraan ng pagsusulat ko mabulaklak. Mas madali kong na-e-express ang sarili ko sa wikang Inlgles. Feeling ko mas magaling ako magsulat pag English ang gamit ko. Feeling ko lang naman 'yun.
Kanina pa tulog sila mama at papa. Gusto ko na rin matulog pero hindi ako inaantok. Ang labo. Bakit ko ba nabanggit 'yon? Kasi sabi ng utak ko, pagod na 'ko matulog ka na, pero may sariling pag-iisip ang mga kamay ko. Patuloy itong pumipindot sa mga letra dito sa keyboard. Teka, pagandahin natin 'yung huli kong sinabi. Revised: Ngunit nawalan na ako ng kontrol sa sarili kong mga kamay. Ayaw na nito makinig sa akin. Patuloy pa rin ito sa pagtipa sa bawat letrang natatagpuan nito sa keyboard. Ano ba ang Tagalog ng keyboard?
Naisip ko lang 'no? Bakit ba natutulog ang mga tao? Para makapag-pahinga? Mabawi ang lakas nila? Maliban doon? Sa tingin ko, ang pag-tulog ay ang paraan nating mga tao para panandaliang makatakas sa mga problemang dala ng buhay na kailangan nating harapin 'pag tayo ay gising. Kaya masarap matulog. Kasi natatakasan natin sila. Silang mga sagabal sa ating mga plano. Silang mga kadalasa'y umuubos ng ating panahon.
Gusto ko ng matulog.
Pero hindi pa rin ako inaantok eh.
Bukas din 'yung Facebook account ko. Tinitingnan ko kung may kaibigan akong pwedeng daldalin. Kaso wala. Merong online pero hindi ko naman sila ganoon ka-close. Ayan, nag-se-senti na 'ko. Na-mi-miss ko na ang mg kaibigan ko. Oo nga pala. Dinalaw ako ng BFF kong si Joribel kanina. Biglaang dalaw na nauwi sa biglaang lakwacha. Nakakatuwa. Mag-a-alas-otso na siya dumating. Umalis s'ya ng 8:15, sumama ako para ihatid siya sa may kanto at bumili na rin ng chicharong balat ng manok. Pero inabot kami ng halos isang oras sa daan ka-kadaldal. Nakakatuwa. Kailan ko kaya uli makikita na buo ang ang barkada namin? 'Yung GROSSBOMB. :) Nabanggit ko 'yung Facebook kasi balak ko ipost ito as a "note" doon. Haha.
Wala naman akong sinasabing matino. Sinusulat/tina-type daw pala. Sarcastic na utak. Epal. T.T
Weird. Magulo. Fine. Magulo na kung magulo. Ganoon ako eh. May magagawa pa ba 'ko? Mas komportable ako maging magulo at malabo. Mas masaya 'pag ganoon.
Weirdo. 'Yun yung tawag sa akin ng mga ka-klase ko nung elementary at high school, pati ng mga kapit-bahay namin. Ayaw na ayaw kong tinatawag na weirdo noon. Am'pangit ng dating sakin. Para akong sinasabihan na abnormal. Siguro iba at hindi normal (para sa iba sa kanila) yung makipag-usap sa sarili habang nag-lalakad o kaya mag-sulat ng kung anu-ano o kaya mag-basa forever o kaya mag-isa at hindi makihalubilo. Sa akin hindi eh. Ganoon yung trip ko. Bata pa lang, ayoko ng lumalabas ng bahay. Sapat na yung maglalaro ako sa isang sulok at sisigaw ng Darna! pag gusto ko. O kaya damputin yung mga libro ng kuya ko na kaya ko ng basahin at babasahin ko ng paulit-ulit. Saka mas trip ko makipag-usap kay Barbie kaysa sa mga ka-edad ko noon. Wala naman kasi silang matinong sinasabi. Boring sila para sa akin.
Weirdo. Ngayon, tanggap ko na na weirdo nga ako. Natutunan kong tanggapin ang pagka-weirdo ko nung magsimula akong ma-inlab sa mga libro. Grade three 'yun. Matagal na kong mahilig mag-basa pero minahal ko ang mga libro nung Gr.3 ako. Nung ma-inlab ako sa kanila, marami akong nakilala. Iba't-ibang tauhan, lugar, at mga bagay. 'Yung mga tauhan na bida sa mga aklat ay madalas na kapareho ko ng ugali. Weirdo sila. Magulo. Malabo. Kaka-iba. Distinct. Mula noon, ang buhay para sa akin ay parang isang kwento na lang na aking isinusulat. (Balang araw isusulat ko ang kwento ng buhay ko.) At mula din noon, natuwa ako na weird ako. I'm proud to be weird. Weirdo nga ako.
Syempre, may tumutuya. Pinag-tatawanan ako. O kaya sinasabihan akong magpakatino o umayos. Eh wala naman akong ginagawang mali o against sa batas. Loko pala sila eh. Pasunurin daw ba ako sa Status Quo nila? ASA!
Mayroon pang nagrereklamo sa mama ko. Bakit daw ako nakayuko lagi. Bakit daw nagbabasa lagi. Bakit daw nagsasalita mag-isa. Bakit daw ganito. Bakit daw ganyan. Bakit, bakit, bakit. Tanong ko lang 'no: Bakit ako lagi nakikita ninyo? Kasalanan ko senyo?
Ang dami ko 'atang sentmiyento sa buhay ano?
Hindi naman masyado. Keribels lang. Kaya pa teh. Pero gusto ko lang lumigaya. Oo, masaya ako pero maligaya? Ewan. Senti ulit. Gabi kasi eh. Tahimik. Malungkot. Malungkot ba 'ko? Ngayon, siguro oo. Bukas hindi na. May magugulo na naman ako eh. May mapag-ti-tripan. Sasaya na naman. Tatawa. Pero hindi magiging maligaya.
Napakalalim na salita. Maligaya. Mararanasan ko kaya iyon? 'Kala mo ang tanda ko na 'no? 18 years old teh. Certified isip-bata, pero Lola at taga-payo ng barkada. Dahil sa libro. Natuto akong makipag-deal sa mga moral problems ko at ng iba dahil sa libro. Lahat dahil sa libro. Patalon-talon na ang usapang ito. Wala ng kwenta.
Matutulog na ko.
Susubukan ko na lang ipaliwanag at linawin kung ano mang mga pinag-susulat ko dito. Pero madali lang ito intindihin. Kung weirdo ka - gaya ko.
Crap! Walang title.
Weirdo 101. Sabi ni utak. Fine sabi ni kamay. Parang subject lang eh. Hopefully, hindi. Baka maging weirdo yung makakabasa nito. Kawawa naman.
Hala, sige, goodnight!
Me babasahin pa kong libro eh. Hindi pa 'ko matutulog. Sumasakit lang yung mata ko sa kakatitig kay monitor. Tapo magbabasa ako eh 'no? Tanga lang eh. :))
- Kamay ni TikyaFeb. 6, 20102:00 AM Hontoni? Halos isang oras ko pala itong isunulat. Chineck ko pa yung Tagalog grammar ko. Baka mail. Haha! May pagka-bobo kasi ako sa Filipino. Oo nga pala. Filipino, hindi Tagalog.
She told me to buy tomatoes, so I went. While I was walking I saw this dirty kitten near the veggie stall. I pitied the kitten but I know I couldn’t do anything about it. So I simply ignored the little thing.
After paying for the stuff I bought, I turned around and saw the kitten trying to cross the street as a car, a blue van I think, approached, then just like in the movies everything moved in slow motion, I saw the kitten’s tail, I contemplated if I could pull it back to safety without butchering it (just in case the van already had it under its wheels), I could still remember how scared I was as I saw the van approaching fast and I knew I don’t have the time (or maybe just scared to take advantage of time), I could only hope the kitten would move fast enough such that it could avoid the monster wheels, or that I could stop the time, even just for a few seconds.
The poor thing died. Right in front of my eyes. I saw the monster wheels run over the kitten’s neck. Saw how the kitten’s neck was opened a little. Saw it writhe. Saw some of its guts sprouting. Saw the van continue its journey, as if it hadn’t felt the small bump it crossed. And killed.
And all I could do was to shout (not even a loud one).
Then I walked away.
I walked away but I could still picture the writhing, dying figure of the kitten. I could almost hear its plea for me to help it or to just give it a proper burial. And I could almost feel the icy glare someone might be giving me. I’m such a hypocrite.
Crying but leaving.
Such a hypocrite.
And now I have the nerve to write about it. As if I was the victim. As if I was the poor one who was so unlucky to see such kind of death. As if I didn’t deserve to see it and to shake in misery. As if that kitten’s death happened to be only a topic I have to write about. But see, I have no choice.
I have to write about it. I have to spend this few minutes, just this few minutes, to write about it. I have to do this in honor of that kitten. For that kitten I failed to save, I failed to help. What choice do I have? This place I live in is a bustling place. No place for me to bring that kitten, no place for me to bury that kitten. Am I trying to convince myself that I left that kitten in better hands, in Mother Nature’s hands? Moreover, even if I was able to save that kitten, I still wouldn’t be able to protect it, I still have to leave it prowling the streets alone, and maybe leave it, only to suffer more. Still, I know that all of these are my lame excuses. My excuses to lessen the guilt I am feeling now. To ease the burden.
The burden I deserve to feel.
I wish I could turn back the time. I wish I could stop the time. But I couldn’t and what happened already happened. I could only regret.
Time will come that I will forget the incident about the kitten I failed to save. Still for now, I want to write about it. To help me cope with it. To help me think that in some way I succeeded in saving that kitten, even just in memory. And to help me remember.
To help me remember that there came a time in my life that I failed to make good use of the little time Fate has given me.
How I failed to use the few ticktocks of the clock, time made me see and feel.
I'm new.
Actually, I'm not new to blog sites. This past few years, I am a major net surfer and blog reader. I've been trying to start a blog but for some reasons, I can't. Blogging seems to be not just my thing. Nonetheless, for the nth time - I'm here.
I'm pretty wierd huh?
WEIRD is the only word that surmises everyhing about me. :)
