Raindrops on my Window Sill August 3, 2008

Right now, the rain pours and I hear the drops on my windowsill. I listen intently to the rhythm as each falls from the sky. This is a time that I wake up from my busy world and I suspend time. It feels good to be alone at times, the apartment is quiet and I can only hear the wind dancing with water. I love this time because it is rare for me nowadays. When did I stop appreciating the rain? When did I cease to appreciate little things? When did I ever pause and just listen to rain dripping on my windowsill? Together with the splashing of water, the sound of thunder and the specks of lightning, I return to the places I bore memories when the heavens were crying tears of joy or even pain.

It was a stormy afternoon and the roads were flooded with murky water. Winds were blowing away the roofs of houses and the rain still continues to batter the land. My brother and I were forced to walk from the Jeepney since it could no longer pass the dangerous terrain. We failed at keeping ourselves dry and gave up on our umbrellas. I remember how he was holding my hand tight and inspite of the pathetic situation we were in, my brother made me feel safe. I started to enjoy the moment as we both savor the raindrops on our cheeks. Suddenly I fell on a shallow hole and I started to float away. My brother pulled me with all his strength and I knew he would never let me go. I looked at him, his face filled with fear of losing me and I laughed at him. He gave me a little scolding to look where I am going. We reached the house but we never told our parents what happened. To this day, my brother has always been my secret savior. He never acknowledges the innumerable times he helped me. I always had to remind our family that he was always there when we need him. As I grew up, I realized that I could be a savior to him too. I saved him in the way he saved me when I was broken. I guess that rainy day prompted us to make a silent promise; we would always look out for each other.

After childhood, we realize love for the first time. We find ourselves attracted to people and we hoped they liked us too. I knew I was deeply bitten with love the moment I saw him. His rosy lips and deep-set eyes captured my young heart. He was always on my mind and it was a torture to hide it from him. My friends knew, as I could not contain how I feel, my first love and he was unaware. For two years, I loved him like a god, the perfect man of my dreams and I wished he would also want me. I was walking with him in the park when rain started to fall. We walked faster hoping we would reach his car without being drenched. The rain became a heavy downfall and we ran under a tree. I was shivering when he suddenly put his denim jacket over me. “Are you ready?” I nodded and we walked tucked under his jacket. The rain drowned out the beating of my heart and the surge of happiness in my head. It was the first time I was so close physically to him and I affirm my love for him again. The following week, he introduced me to his girlfriend with red lips. Numbness set in and I locked my heart in a cage. It took me a long time to feel love again but every time I chance on being caught under the rain, I always seek refuge under a tree.

He started screaming at me, pushing me out of the car and throwing objects at me. Our arguments were spiked with cursing and hostility. It seemed we could never agree on anything but we tried to love each other. It was wrong from the start yet we took the risk only to find ourselves drowning in misery. I never thought that I could both love and hate a person so much. The relationship ended and as the rain poured while he was driving, I felt fear and the impending loss of my heart again. It was a blur and next thing I knew I was struggling to stand by the side of the road bruised and shaking. I did not know how I was able to survive that storm. It hit me so hard pounding my very soul. I forgave him after a time but I stayed away. It was that rainy evening that took and gave my life back

I have a bad case of being stubborn. As much as the facts are laid out in front of me, I always put up with a fight much to the dismay of the unlucky person. We got off the bus and he decided to order for our food. I wanted to go straight to the apartment to drop off our things. I was still arguing even though the gray clouds hovered above. He proceeds to ordering while I was still huffing and puffing because I was being ignored. Under my muttering, the rain fell like a hurricane. We were dripping wet by the time we reached his house. I stayed quiet, ashamed because he was right. I refused to accept defeat so I still scowled. I expected a “I told you so” but he took my hand, kissed me and took the bags. I knew he was the one, the person I can be with in good or bad weather. I followed him inside the room and hugged him. I apologized and he patted me on the head like a brat. There are still my occasional bouts with being hard headed but I always remember that rain on a Saturday afternoon when I stopped refusing the fact that I found the love of my life.

 

 

 

When Love Vanishes July 18, 2008

Love makes the world go round; it will engulf you in irrational sense and alter your perception about priorities. The biggest irony of love is its charlatanic means of deceiving people that love would always stay. When love ends, it hurts like a thousand knives stabbed to your heart. My friend once said, “The only way to get over a person is to find another.” I disagreed with her until I found myself in the situation that love was equal to misery, self- loathing, mistrust and the angst of being lost in limbo. When love vanishes, it leaves a bitter aftertaste and you are never the same person – no matter how you convince yourself.

I should not have spend time with him in the balcony

I liked him so much that I wrote his name all over my college books. I made up reasons just to see him. A moment alone, we stared at the trees and my heart was beating so fast. I stammered with my words and it was given that I liked him. He asked me if I knew how to say, “I love you” in his dialect. I looked down at my shoes and he uttered them on his own. I wanted to believe that he said it to me. I was naïve and I thought the feeling was mutual. He introduced me to his girlfriend and I knew I lost. It turned out he was just a really nice guy. My mind convinced that he would notice me, more than a friend or a younger sister but years passed and he has forgotten me. All I remember is that memory of us running to his car when it suddenly rained…the time when the world stopped and I felt the warmth of his skin. Then we never saw each other. He was my first love.

Love vanished but my young heart was scarred so soon.

I should not have let love intertwined with friendship

During our elementary years, I loathed him and vice versa. I hated his being different from our classmates. He was always questioning every lesson much to the dismay of teachers. He only cared about drawings and his sarcasm. I made it a point to avoid the air he breathed in the hallway. High school graduation paved way to my indecisiveness on my course. I was flabbergasted when I saw him in the same room- we exchanged weird looks. As weeks passed, I found myself listening more to his philosophies in life. Perhaps I have matured that I became competitive to debate with him. We spent hours together talking about arts and the future. He became my best friend whom I loved so much that I was not complaining. People were astonished on why we spent so much time together but never took our friendship to the next level. I shrugged my shoulders and through our freshman, sophomore and junior year- we got involved with other people. I was there when his girl cheated on him and he, when I was dating someone simply because I was bored. Then it happened one afternoon, someone told me he slept with one person who immensely complicated what we had- a friendship skipping constantly between love and companionship. I hated him enough to lash at him. This was days before our graduation and uncontrollable tears flowed. I cried because I loved him inspite of me having a relationship and I mourned because I lost my best friend. He retorted that I was unfair- “You took him for granted, shunned me away whenever a new guy came along. You would go back into my arms when you need comfort.” It was true but I was too proud to admit that I was the bad person. Months passed and I was miserable without him. I apologized and he accepted it. I said, “If there is one thing you should know, you are the one person that I’ll always be in love with. But I cannot lose you and our friendship.” Things were back to normal and I had my best friend- always there when I needed an sparring partner. Playing pool until 3 in the morning was the best time together. Alas! I left the city and he left for another country. I missed him- having someone to trust and love at the same time.

Love vanished but my heart would always have a special chamber for my best friend.

I should not have spend time talking to him

He sat in front of me. My mind was somewhere else and he cracked a joke that I raised my left eyebrow. He talked about mundane things and as much as I was having a bad day, I started answering his questions. Out of the blue, I invited him for coffee in my favorite spot. That night, we spent hours talking and I gave him my number. After a month, we became an official couple. It was not easy because we had to keep it as a secret. Only his family knew. I was such a coward of being judged by my own parents on my choice of men. Our relationship withstood 3 years of happiness, jealousy and frustration that we can never be equal in society. The burden of being so depended upon proved to be tiring. I ended it inspite of his incessant protests, million phone calls and letters that I dismissed.

Love vanished and I became the wicked witch, I cheated on him because I met a guy whom I found so mysterious and unpredictable.

I should not have asked for an empty promise

His eyes were expressive and his demeanor so relaxed. He laughed like a little kid and when he smiled, my heart did a somersault. He was a great artist; he can do anything, from murals, paintings to impressions. I admired him- his talent for enjoying his craft. Intriguingly, I found his being irresponsible a perfect challenge for me. We started going out like two peas in a pond. We did not have a single care in the world. When he was behind the wheel, I experienced excitement, the adrenaline rush and the taking of risks so delectable. Our first year was the best; we could not live without each other. I turned my back on my parents because I believed I found the one. Until a demon came between us, changed us from nice people to vicious monsters. We became parasites and we never trusted each other again. We lied to our families, friends and even to each other. A painful decision had to be made and I was left on my own- he was nowhere in sight and I lost myself,  self- confidence and hope. I hung on to the last thread still believing that love conquers all. He gave up; I died multiple times before I accepted that it was over.

Love vanished and my heart was mutilated and pieces of it were never found.

I should not have looked into his eyes

I was still trying to resuscitate my bleeding heart when my friends hauled me out of my black hole. We painted the town red and somehow it worked- I became less lonely and I was breathing again. I met him at a friend’s birthday party. I was unaware that he was looking at me since I had no intention of jumping into another catastrophe. Then I sat next to him unknowingly and the game “truth or dare” came up. Imagine a childhood game being played by tipsy adults. It was my turn and I chose dare- look at the person next to you and do something unexpected. I gazed upon his eyes and I saw comfort that I needed. In a flash, I planted a kiss on his red lips. He was surprised but smiled endlessly throughout the night. That was the beginning of the greatest adventure I had with love. Since we knew that time was short, we took advantage of the rare chances that we can be together. Maybe it was not real love yet he helped me to get up after my biggest stumble. He made me feel pretty again and wanted. I thanked him endlessly and as a final farewell, a room filled with rose petals and scented candles was the perfect ending.

He was the last person I called before I boarded the plane.

Love vanished but my heart remained grateful for the air he shared to bring me back to life.

 

I am exclusively seeing someone but I am no expert on the field of love. Having a plethora of love being betrayed, given, scorned and shared; I realized love may vanish but the remnants of its inevitable happening become permanent. We may deny our desires but we can never triumph from avoiding love.

When love vanishes, I am now assured that it would resurrect in due time.

 

 

 

Taming of the Screw March 6, 2008

 

Taming of the Screw

I remember it vividly. The hushed voices of my relatives everytime she passed by. The questioning looks that she received when she joined in the conversations. I could feel it in the dead air, she did not belong. She felt it too and subsequently, she leaves and the world is back to normal again. I first heard the word “crazy” because of her. They labeled her as one.

Many years have passed and I seldom saw her. There were instances when she would stay at my grandmother’s house for a couple of days but as a child, I feared her. People told me “You should not go near crazy people.” Her husband cheated on her. She went insane because of a broken heart. Her children abandoned her later. Without medication, she would pace the floor endlessly and mouthed incomprehensible phrases. I veered away from her especially during meal times. When I was acting up, my own mom would say, “Do you want to be crazy like your grand- aunt? She lost everything so better be sane!” These words rung in my head thus my careful threading on my behavior ensued.

I was a senior intern in a psychiatric ward. I saw different faces of confusion, bewilderment and entrapment. I resigned myself as being a coward for having palpitations when I was assigned my first case. I had to do this so I can graduate. I memorized my psychiatry books so it wouldn’t be that hard. Little did I know.

He was a tall man with a few gray strands. He stared at me as I pulled up a chair in front of him. I introduced myself and mechanically recited the procedures of our session. He stared. I was speechless. He stared more. I felt idiotic. He stared at me longer. I shifted uncomfortably.

I like Superman. Do you like him too? He is amazing, can fly and can lift heavy objects. Who is your favorite superhero?

Batman.

That gray uniform looks good on you. I bet you’re only 18 years old. I have a daughter but she is younger. Do you have a boyfriend already? If not, you should have.

19 years old. I have a boyfriend, which I should not have.

Our session ended with nothing for me to log on my notes. I bid him farewell and he nodded. I asked my instructor if she could assign me to another patient. I was denied so I cursed while driving myself home.

I saw him twice a week and the staring got worse. I sat there with my empty notes. He seemed to enjoy himself.

One afternoon, I saw him in a corner in the basketball court. He looked dirty and disheveled. I greeted him as I nervously put a chair in front of him. Then he started talking.

You think I am crazy. So crazy that you cannot even talk. You are like the rest, you think you are Jesus Christ to persecute us. Look at this place! I should not even be here.

Why do you think you are here?

I had an argument with my wife. She told me I was a stupid jerk. I was a cuckold. I snapped and next thing I knew, I was on a bed in this hospital. I lost my job. I was a professor at the University of ______.

I am sorry to hear that. (I am sorry Grand- Aunt)

I want to get out of here. I want to see my daughter, my house. I want to ask forgiveness from my wife. I hope she still loves me. She never visited, no one did. I guess I am scary. Are you scared of me?

I am not scared of you. I think in time, you will be able to return to your family. You will get better.

I hope your words will be a reality.

Then he sings “I’m leaving on a jetplane.” I found myself humming and the weeks that followed, I found myself driving fast to see this man every week. It was different because I listened to him. I listened to his stories, fascinated with his life outside the gates. My notes were still relatively empty much to the disappointment of my instructor.

The day finally came and he was to be released. I wrote my final report on our sessions and he was overwhelmed, his eyes beaming with excitement.

My wife will pick me up. Do I look aright with this shirt?

 

Joy did not last long. After two weeks, he was re- admitted to the hospital. An unfortunate incident happened. He was buying from the local store when a teenager started taunting him.

Crazy old man! You belong to the loony bin. You will always be crazy! Hahaha! Your daughter must be ashamed having you as a crazy dad.

He returned to his house and brought out a kitchen knife. He went inside the store and slit the throat of the young man.

I sat in front of him. I could not say anything. He stared at me like the first time.

I sobbed openly. He did not make a sound. I completely lost him.

I graduated from college and he never talked ever since.

I’m leaving on a jet plane.
Don’t know when ill be back again.
Oh, babe, I hate to go.

Incurable Nostalgia February 13, 2008

No matter how a woman declares her independence, there is no denying that love can make her bloom, puts a curve on her lips and the sensuality that it extracts from her. I am a believer of this phenomenon. I am blessed to be pricked, poked and teased by this phenomenon called love.

 

I was in fifth grade when I first felt that strong punch of love. Maybe I should label it as a fatal crush. He was in 6^th grade and I just fell- stupefied whenever I see him along the corridors. Together with my other hormonally charged friends, we would stand at outposts waiting for his group to pass. When he was inches away from me, I would outrun even the roadrunner. I could not even bring myself to say hello. It was so obvious that he knew this; much to the amusement of his friends. Sometimes I thought he was torturing me. I was in limbo and instead of studying, I spent hours dreaming about him. My grades dropped and so did my allowance. However I did not care, I convinced myself I wass in love. One day, my friends set me up that I had no choice but to pass through the gate where he was the monitor. Everything was a blur and I just recall that someone was pulling me towards him. I stood in front of him like an idiot, speechless as he extended his hand. My friends narrated that I was white as a ghost and he was laughing. I felt stupid. I was stupid. Next day and for the rest of the schoolyear, I avoided the corridors and if I see even his shadow, I would dash in a split second. I was not sure of what happened next. After he graduated, I forgot about him. My attention was back to playing and hiking with my classmates.

 

One afternoon while walking in front of the school, I saw him and our eyes met. I was in sophomore year. He stopped and my legs continued to move. He was staring as I walked by. I was not sure if he said hello. All I knew was that my heart did not skip anymore. He was just another face. Funny how my so-called first love sank into oblivion. Right now, he is married with 4 children. His sister is still one of my friends. I never mentioned this to her. Maybe she knows but it does not matter anymore. Young love is fleeting and seldom does it lasts.

 

I was “privileged” to experience a relationship that is like a light bulb. It turns on and off according to the seasons. I had my first “official” boyfriend at age 16. He was the lucky one to be my first kiss. Unfortunately it was unpleasant for me since after that, I got hit hard on the head with a basketball. The gym is not the ideal place to pucker up. We broke up every Thursday then make up on Monday. It was weird because we never got to enjoy the “relationship.” We spent most of our time arguing who was the sweeter one or the more jealous one. It was too confusing so I did not bother seeing him. He did the same thing. It was in college that I saw him in the same department. We were single again so we decided maybe that time, it can work out. I dated him for two weeks secretly. We hid it since we followed the same pattern of breaking then making up every 5 seconds. I was frustrated so I called it quits and he was relieved too. Before I graduated, we attended a party with our common friends. We had the same discussion and I looked at him exasperated. He asked if I wanted to go for a walk. After what seems like an eternity of walking, we came to a clearing. When I sat down on the grass, he held my hand and asked, “why can’t we be together?” I just shrugged my shoulders, then he pointed out two trees in front of us. They were planted so close to each other but their branches never touch. He said, “we are like those trees.” That was the best explanation for us and I held his hand while we went back to the party. We smiled as we said our goodbyes. I occasionally receive emails from him since I am the godmother to his son.

 

Then I had that falling in love with your best friend danger zone. Yet it was the most beautiful love I have. Call it cliché but we promised that if we have not found a partner when we turn 30, we are going to get married. Well, it is going to be a few months and 6 years have gone without a word from him. We both are not good at maintaining communication. Wherever he is, I still have love for him. He will always be my best friend whom I am thankful for not being my significant other. Most probably, our friendship would overtake any romantic strings we may have.

 

 

Last but not the least, I have The one that got away to him and What if he was the one to me. Six months before I left for New York, I fell in love unexpectedly with a person whom I hated so much. He was arrogant, bossy and so different from me. However because of forced circumstances, I had to see him on a regular basis. As each day passed, we found ourselves passionately in love. No qualms and no care of what people perceived of our relationship. We were happy, very happy that I was bursting with that toxic love poison. It was the best of times but it had to end, we knew it from the very start. What we thought was going to be complicated never dampened our affection for each other. We made every minute count from early morning until late evening, we were together discussing life with our endless supply of caffeine. Last time I saw him was in a coffee shop. I was holding his hand tightly. I turned to him “I want to memorize this moment, exactly how it is.” It is rare that he emails but when he does, expect that it be like a novel, well thought and written. We know that our time was enough to last a lifetime. I am thankful for having him even for such a short time.

 

There are other stories of love but I selected these since they mirror what love can be. Whenever I want to re- experience that warm, fuzzy feeling- I just unlock my chest of memories. I may not be the romantic type but I am a self-confessed hopeless nostalgic.

 

 

Snippets of my Drained Brain February 9, 2008

Alas! I am plagued again by the dreaded writer’s block. My brain has turn into a bloke and creative juices have run dry. Anyhow, as I metamorphosed into a person whose ideas are like army ants, I present to you snippets of my mind (in lay man’s term, previous works) I hope you would find pleasure in reading them. Just a word of caution, the last poem contains adult content.

 

Vanity Circus

When I was 6 years old
I looked at mom’s face
She had lines around her mouth
Like cracked soil in a pot

When I was 10 years old
I had a teacher
She wears Chanel No.5
But her eyes drooped

When I was 12 years old
I had a favorite vendor
She sells my favorite pudding
Her hands crawl of spider veins When I was 18 years old
I danced with 18 roses
I am forever young
My mom’s lines grew ten fold

When I was 24 years old
My face was changed
Just a bit
Paranoia sets in

When I was 26 years old
My boyfriend saw a gray strand
I freaked out, cried like hell
I pulled it out with angst

When I was 28 years old
I saw lines under my eyes
I look like a raccoon
Creams piled on my pores

I am 29 years old
My face starts to age
Acceptance is on its way
I feel more calm, sort of

I looked into a mirror
I count them every Sunday
Eagle’s feet around my mouth
I reach for a regenerist

I wake up from a silk pillow
I face another day of aging
I am me. Vanity fades slowly
I will be alright

Hopefully I will age gracefully.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Soul Asylum

A hallway that is poorly lit
Catatonic faces see through me
Periwinkle birds flying
Bumblebees the size of boas

Unwashed bodies behind cages
Filthy wild species
Howling at the cursed wind
Swatting invisible flies

I found her in a corner
She sings the anthem
Her eyes rolled in frenzy
She plops on her own shit I turned to him
“Is this what you want?
“You have a choice
“This is bullshit crazy!”

He froze at her sight
“My son! Why is your shirt blue?”
Her soiled hands on her cheeks
She rushed to him wailing

On a gloomy Monday afternoon
I drove two people home
One soul trapped in an asylum
One soul lost without a mother

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

trouvaille saut

poison lips behind the lens
a flint drawn by the wind
haste of lingering guilt
succumb to primal thoughts

painted eyes of mischief
fathom me in unison
slavery in triumph
vines of lust creep

images embed so shallow
flung to dangerous arms
lotus in a pond, enticing
scorpion venom nourishes me dry well of mundane toil
tempting risks wanted
stranger caught in the web
my hips quiver softly

dagger concealed by the dark twin
bring me death all over again
twirl and lie between my legs
wake me from my own prison

…in gratitude to a stranger
… erotic figures tattooed inside my vagina
….and I thought I have forgotten

I am a woman.