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In Vain..

The month of May has just started and we were anticipating more of the sun’s fury, as likewise informed by our ever reliable PAGASA (?). Come May 1, a local holiday here in the Philippines, it was announced that we were to experience the hottest temperature to date, since January. And it was absolutely parching when me and my friends went outside to buy a can of Coke. We ran, no, we dashed to get to the nearest drugstore as we were literally roasting the minute we stepped out of the building. The can of coke was icy cold, and it was a a huge relief. I rolled the can over my head, my cheeks and my neck, feeling its coolness drench my sweat glands for a second. And then we dashed back in to the office, like we were running for our lives. Then the next thing we knew, the sun was no longer there and fell humongous droplets of rain from the then-black grey sky. It seemed angry, and it gave us a terrible downpour. Everything was blacker than anything else since then…

My boyfriend has not texted nor called me since last night. I’ve tried calling him probably thirty times in a row but his line was out of coverage. I was already anxious ‘coz he wasn’t also online. I thought he might have been charging his phone. It was raining really hard and lightnings were visible through my curtained windows. Power outage was also an option so I tried to calm down. I knew he was just at home and there was nothing to be worried about. I gushed myself for a bit on my favorite tv drama, let half an hour pass. I reached again for my phone and dialed, praying while waiting on the other line to just let it ring, just one ring and I could breathe. It rang, one, twice, thrice, and he cut it. That’s the usual move. He would cut my calls and call me back. However, he didnt. So I dialed again, another ring was heard and was cut again. Still, no return calls. I thought he might be having a hard time connecting, like before. Especially with the bad weather. I waited, yet again and  there was none. Just me, staring at my phone, waiting for a message that could have said “I couldn’t reach you”. That would have been better, at least. But there was nothing. I sent four or five messages, I said I miss him. We were supposed to go out today, but because of the awful weather, I wasn’t permitted to go. There was also flood on the streets already. It hurt me that I wouldn’t be seeing him for another week. And now this. The only communication we have when we’re not together, and it’s giving me a headache. He knew how I feel when I get worried. I cry, I cry really hard and bad thoughts creep up into my head. And then I’d cry harder, and he’s still not texting me. I haven’t even slept right the whole night due to power failure and I was thinking what was happening to him. I have no idea what was and is going on. And I am still waiting. I’ll probably be waiting all day..

 

John and Anne ~

My boyfriend said he was reading my blog, this blog, last night and for the Nth time, told me he loved reading my posts, like he was being taken back in time. When our love story was young and sweet :p

Thinking back, I couldn’t imagine that in the next 5 months, we would already be celebrating our 2nd year anniversary. It never felt nor it occurred to me, that we have been together for a while now. Because everytime I see him, my heart flutters in a childish, frenzy beat that I have felt during our first few dates. The funny, goosebumpy thrills never ceased. The streaming of joyful tears will run about endlessly, at the mere thought of his face, his warm embraces and gentle kisses that I could almost feel, everyday, every night. And I am certain that it is here to stay.

pedring

3 weeks ago, super typhoon pedring washed off our house. my home of nearly 25 years is now in ruins and still underneath about a foot-thick mud. our roof was a shredded piece of wood and steel on the floor, where our cream-colored vynil used to be. the 2 tv sets lay submerged on our ocean-house floor. on top of the tv sets sat our fridge. surrounded by broken glasses and twisted metals. our steel-screen door was nowhere. it must have been torn off the hedge, washed away by the tides and into the sea. it could have been found somewhere by the junkyard. clothes and shoes were all afloat. shoes can no longer be called a pair.
power’s off for almost month now. fusebox still dripping. there’s only still blackness against a now-sunny morning. our once home is no longer inhabitable. i hoped to have salvaged even my book collection. but there was nothing left except 4 walls..

what the eyes don’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve for

REAL STEEL

my boyfriend and I watched REAL STEEL last Sunday and as expected, our money’s worth the movie. REAL STEEL is unlike any ordinary robot movie. though it didnt have gigantic alien robots nor spaceships nor megan fox, it certainly brought my robots- fan-girl self back. *transformers took it away* ..it is definitely a must watch. i’ve felt surges of all kinds of emotions: thrill, anger, fear, fun, sadness, triumph, nostalgia. i was on my feet the entire time, swinging my fists in the air, trying to hit an invisible Zeus! i highly recommend REAL STEEL. for kids, families, boxing fans alike!

what the eyes don’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve for

Blue Eyes

I have always wondered how I would look like If I had blue eyes

I thought there would be strange feelings while wearing those stranger’s eyes on mine. I wondered how it would feel If I cried with those eyes..would I feel like an ultimately different person? Would I look like a doll just as other girls would have when they wear blue contacts? Would it do any better for my cosplays? I have no idea..

Going Back to Grey

He came here ahead of me. It wasn’t him then, it was a girl: a girl so pretty and prim. For a week she didn’t last. Her blamelessness was lost. In her place came a man. Silent. Reserved. Suave. I took no notice since I was very much preoccupied by some other, whom I thought was far better. Indeed, I thought. How thoughts could go wrong! They were never certain anyway.

He was doing errands for everybody, slaving for them but me. He was aloof, or so I assumed. It took one little moment for me to need his presence. It didn’t hurt then. His glance caught mine, without the clichéd spark that every girl was dreaming to witness. That idea never came in for so many times until his voice is gradually penetrating into my comfort zone. What comfort zone?!

My daily routine was grey, and I needed some colors. I was used to the dead air I was living with for a month or so. That was my comfort zone. When I had no idea what was going on with the world out there. His voice was poignant and sharp and it could pierce. My comfort zone wasn’t spared. His eyes smiled and it smiled at me. My lips shuddered at the eagerness to respond back. I eventually trusted my ambiguous notions. After all, it was somehow good to have somebody to talk to. I was more bored than the dead and it was never prevalent to have me bored rigid of anything else in the world.

I found a friend in him and he instantly became the pages that I could smoothly write my whimpers onto, as I had things to tell but didn’t have the courage to. He was my diary, my breathing and bleeding diary. I could write and write and write some more and he would still crave further, which I undeniably fell in love with. I loved his enthusiasm to learn everything about me, like he cared. He said he cared. One word I despised. One word abused by every man who was caught in the shackles and is no longer free. How can one care? Apparently a lie I thought I should’ve forgiven, and yet, have not forgotten. As coward as my not telling those things meant to be unveiled.

I wanted badly to touch him, kiss him, and tell him how he had been the lingering dream I tried hard to eradicate every night. If he only knew how it kills me to see him, and her, whole together, while I’m slowly breaking apart. Sinful as you may call it, he once said he was mine. And I would have been his if I wanted to. That was stupid, of course I wanted to. We wanted to. But we could not. We should not. Somebody owns him and I was damned, years late.

Somehow I was able to live behind the deceptions of it all. While I was caught in my reveries of the him-and-I, creating funny noises on my mind exchanging words meant to exist within the spheres of my illusions. I chose to believe my own fantasies and learned to indeed believe them in due time. I was beginning to find bliss in it, and when I was ultimately blown away, he said goodbye.

He was going back to her. I heard him say farewell. But it didn’t sink in. he was walking away now. I was watching his every step, getting farther and farther away from where we used to be. But I’m still here, here where we used to be. I’m staring at his chair, the chair where he used to be. I know he’s never going to be back here, where we used to be. I think I’m seeing all the colors draining from the mainstream. And now, just about now, I’m beginning to go back again to grey.

—found this draft here, I can’t remember anymore who I was pertaining to but I thought I shouldn’t let my pieces die in the backyard so I posted it. No offense meant. :p

~johanne~

One melodious strum on his guitar

sang arduously in to my heart

and with the murderous faint of his voice,

my world seemed all in motion.

All else was a  squabble of noise

blending into the charcoaled air

His songs were etched of glasses,

cutting through thick mists of red rain.

I see his music swirling about my head,

ransacking another serenade’s stead;

endowing life to the ones that were dead

and the living all have gone to fled.

His gaze burns the veins under my skin

and bursts of a billion cries within.

every strand of my hair yearns for him

like my life siphoning out of my dream.

That dream where rockers and cosplayers

conquered, stripping me off my dress.

Stepping like a mile closer to his oblivion

They hail me Queen, chasing my Ascension.

Where he would be with the twilight

waiting for my Resurrection. And

we would sing and make love until the

breaking dawn kisses the dead of night.