Tag Archive | love

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.

Dear John: I Love You

It hurts to see him lying in the hospital bed. One image I never wanted to be real other than just reading or singing it between the lines of an MCR song. I couldn’t bear seeing him twinge in pain, or shudder in the cold and could not even pull the blanket to cover his body. He could not even wear a decent pony tail. I loved his hair. It’s probably my third most favorite part of him. And now his hair is just plain rigid and heavy, saggy from dirt. I’d still want to brush my fingers through it so I could see his pretty face. His face now wore pain agony and devastation. I tried to look for a trace of smile, seemingly impossible. I want to kiss him, kiss him and feel him burn. But I could not, or it might hurt him and make him bleed. He was very sick, and he was in pain. His pain is mine. I’ll die ten times when he’s hurt. I’d die for him and make him live. I can’t believe just how much I love this man. I need him beside me, still or moving as long as he breathes and lives for me..
Get well soon my love..

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

Dear John: “—“

I was thinking about you all day, my cloudy vision fallen fixed on the empty concrete, twitching occasionally  as my pen cries out blotches of ink in this indecent piece of board, which I found somewhere inside the training room. I was looking at your pictures, feasting my eyes at your luscious pale rose lips and wished I was kissing you that instant

I miss you…

I miss you so much…

I long for you…

I was holding back the tears as you would not want me to cry whenever we are apart. I struggled to recall how you want me to find something that could take my mind off of us, not together; how you want me to write and go on. I did. And I was writing. I was blissful, utterly blissful. Though I wrote a new piece with only you in my head. Putting in remnants of our juvenile love story. I was feeling princessly in my personal fairy tale, somehow, or maybe Misa-chan while dreaming of Yagami Light.

I felt feathery and warm, like I could go on being caressed by the breeze, taking me to uncharted grounds, caring about nothing but living. I felt peaceful. A sensation strangely vague in my perspective. If I remember correctly, I have wanted that for the longest time, to be happy. To feel serene for a moment. I was wishing that I had never learned how to cry nor to bleed, as I had found shelter in this dark room for the many years I endured. I sought for it in many a different places and found but ephemeral fun that eventually faded and bored me to hell, where I ended up being all by myself yet again, in chaos and in blades. I did not know what I needed. I just wanted something, or someone. I was never certain.

I found you.

And I did not want to be sure. I did not want to go back from where I left off, wallowing in pathetic prejudices I came up with to bestow on my head the loser’s crown. But then again…

In you, I found the happiness, the fulfillment I sought for almost forever.

I feel safe and loved when I’m all covered up in your arms. feel the warmth of your body.

I know you are there and that I am protected, because with you, I would never have to think that the sun would have to die; that life flows in grace in every dying raindrop, no matter how hard they fell into the grounds.

And on the surface of this desolate piece of land where my weathering soul lay, I feel rising and breathing, to see your smile and see my face in the mirror of your eyes. Where I could see through you and know that you see me too. Seeing me, the beauty in this frailty and senseless vanity. You embraced me and kissed me and gave life to me. You made me see how the sun could triumph against the night when she awakens at dawn. And in that strength and victory lies such pulchritude in the living, and hoping to live, stretching out my body to dance to the rhythm and hum the melody that was Life and Death. I would cry for your pain and celebrate your happiness.

I am weaving white sandcastle dreams with you. And when our tears finally reaches the sea and destroy these dreams, I’d sleep all my life to weave better fantasies for you.

So close your eyes and open your heart. You might feel what could have been too close for these eyes to see, or too loud for these ears to hear…

Do you feelt it?

Hey John…I Love you…:)


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.

A New Beginning

After I have broken up with my boyfriend of a year and 3 months, which I have posted in here last month..all emo and nuts..I’m coming back here, all smiles now, saying out loud to the world that once more, I have allowed myself to fall in love.

It was swift, like a spur of the moment thing. But I couldn’t care much anymore. I hadn’t told my closest friends yet of it, a little conscious of what they would think of me but certainly I will, just not now.

I was scared, a little cautious and reluctant. At the height of my desolation after my downfall, I had this little ridiculous idea in my head: online dating! It wasn’t new. I’ve joined in with a few thirty-ish thousands of prospects and hopefuls, some might just be mere perverts looking for casual sex. It was just that! Like a pool of fishes anticipating a bait, or a fisherman determined to catch the fish. whichever applies. :p

I thought:  ”should I really get down to this?”

and on second thought..”It’d be fun!”

and on third thought..”I just signed up as Luna-Song”

and I didnt write that down for you to view my profile…:p

My first three days online was incredulous. I had my inbox swelled up to 12 pages of private messages from guys wanting to chat with me, adding me up on my facebook account. I accommodated some, ignored some others who didn’t measure up to my requirements.  It was thrilling, I should say. I was getting back my confidence that..I’m still pretty and wanted. haha

I’ve met up with some of the guys nearby, became frustrated, taunted, whatever dismal feeling it could give. It was not that nice, but definitely an experience.

One night, I got this particular PM from a fellow Filipino guy who introduced himself in pure Filipino..which I didn’t entertain at first. The profile photo showed up 2 guys, making me wonder which is which. At any rate, I responded to him just to be friendly. He added me up on my YM account and chatted for the first time. And it was a first time to remember…

I had fun talking to him. The first thing I noticed was he spoke in good English. Grammar, check.  Slang, check. Tenses, check.

I was pretty keen with that one, maybe a superficial basis but it’s a fundamental requirement for me.

Hmm. Nice. Potential..friend.

Now, to find out how he looked like, I added him up on FB. I was astounded. Unpredictable. What I got was this really long haired guy that you couldn’t see his face anymore, shirtless, holding a guitar. You’re own doze of common wasted rocker, who’s fuckin wasted as hell..to quote from one of his photo comments.

I held back. Was I to go out with this guy? He looked way different from the other guys I’ve met before. Or basically, he never looked the least bit like the guys I wanted to meet up at all. Friends, yes. We can be like that, just that. I had a band too, and my guy band mates never tend to look like that. Weird.

We continued to talk, about anything sensible and stupid. We would last for hours and talk nonstop. We exchanged cellphone numbers after that. We texted the entire morning and I’ll be rushing home from the office to log online and we’ll chat..like we haven’t talked all day.

I haven’t had the chance to scrutinize myself but I already formulated a few questions that had been going inside my head for quite a while now. What the hell is going on? What am I doing? or rather, Why am I feeling that way?

I knew I had to give in to the idea that I already liked this guy, whom I have fondly learned to call my “panda”.

Little did I know..we were saying “I miss you” and worst, “I love you” and we haven’t even met each other. In my dreams, I wanted to hug him tight and kiss him.

We met personally last Saturday and watched Eclipse. Though I’ve already watched the movie prior to this. I should have known, I wouldn’t have been able to watch it the second time, as my attention was completely diverted to him.

I fell in love with the wasted guy.

And he fell in love with the cosplayer.

Details..will follow. I’m loving him for now

~Ja Ne! ❤

Broken Summer

I’ve been waiting for his call, for his messages. It’s been Saturday when he did, and it’s already another Saturday. Well, it is Saturday morning, it’s only 7:40am. morning, but morning will turn to noon, the noon then to dusk, then it’s night again. and i know, still he wouldn’t care. he doesn’t care. he used to care about me. that’s why i like him, that’s why i love him. i told him i love him. i told him to react, he didn’t. that was a long time ago. he called after two months. he didn’t say anything about it that i had to bring it up again. it was a serious thing to talk about. love is a serious thing. and he hates serious stuff. i hated it too but i love him so i had to be serious. he should be too. but since he hates it, the serious became a joke. and we ended there, we ended where we had actually started..jokin around. foolin and bummin and laughin out loud till we drop and still joke about the most nonsensical people. now i’m the one who’s nonsensical, so he turns it into a joke..turns me into a joke.

i kept waiting for one message. a message that will never come. i know it won’t come. i won’t receive anything so i’m not gonna send anything to him either. i think its the right thing to do. coz only i get to do the things that men should do. so i wonder whether he’s really the man or i am. maybe i am, that’s why he doesn’t like me. coz i dont wear skirt or sexy tops or make up. i’m no dyke. if i was dyke, i’d like girls. i don’t. i’m tough and bitchy and i do what i want to do and the things i do always shock people and shut them up. like the way he shut up when i said i love you.

now it’s summer and it’s almost at its end. the piercing heat and freezing coldness will meet again. they always meet and chase each other. we were like that once. that’s why i envy summer and rain. but just like them too, summer loses the battle and rain begins to pour. He is rain, I am Summer and i am losing my battle now. he’s gonna pour down hard and strong and he’s not alone. tears of the rain come in millions, and when they pour, he’s gonna be with other raindrops. he’s gonna fall into the ground. he’s gonna fall with another raindrop and kiss the earth and in the cycle they will both turn into clouds and pour down again together. while Summer will return into the picture and be remembered a year after. sigh


Chopsuey – a threshold

It’s August 29th, 7:36 in the morning. I’m already here at the office, with two cute newly hired guys. I’m fighting against temptation and I’m not really good at this lol.

My period is killing me, I can’t take it anymore. What’s worse is my pimples. yet again, pimples jinx my life. though it makes my cheeks look flushed. that wasn’t a good thing, you know, commend the existence of pimples. and i don’t know why i’m even talking about pimples in the first place. ah the mirror. the horror of it.

I watched Ghost Whisperer last night, and it scared me out of my chicken skin. yeah, that episode about bloodymary? i’m the most vain girl on earth, and now i hate mirrors. she reminds of sadako/samara of the ring, only meaner. coz you know, she’ll rip of your face from the mirror. sadako doesn’t do that. come to think of it, she seems nice. at least she comes out of the television and takes you with her. you’ll still have your face intact. that’s the important thing see? ^_^

you know what chopseuy is? it’s a filipino dish made up of veggies and drowned in oyster sauce. it’s so delicious. here’s a pic hehe

I entitled this entry chopsuey coz its a pool of anything-goes in here. same with the taste, it goes with the mood i’m in. I’m bitter, sweet and sour. just for those who were asking. comments anyone? thanks much


Emos are faggots and ninnys, people say. I just shrug.

When people fall, they fall hard.

When they fall hard, they cry hard.

Who’s to blame? Nobody.

Just cry…

I know I’m gonna see you again

But promise me that you won’t forget

Coz as long as you remember

a part of us will be together.

So even when you’re fast asleep

Look for me inside your dream.

Keep believing in what we’re sharing

And even when I’m not there to tell you