I want to grow old with you, unfortunately you have someone else in mind

What I am to you is not real

What I am to you, you do not need

What I am to you is not what you mean to me

You give me miles and miles of mountains

And I'll ask for the sea

And I'll ask for the sea

People have this annoying habit of wanting something that they knew they could not have. Always taking it as the “challenge” and they apply this (even) with people —wanting someone so bad they knew they could not have and when the time comes that they’ve been rejected they blame it on fate.

I cannot fight destiny. I cannot fight what was written. All I could do now is to "kill" this hope so that it will not spring again and I could move on with the next chapter of my life.

How does one express sadness

Sadness is like a book...

It has the loneliest pages, if you care to look. ~ Unknown

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I see it everyday, in almost all forms. Maybe it’s just me, but it’s a different talk whenever I start to feel it. It thrusts through my bone without warning and leaves with nothing but a flicker entreaty.

Words leave me when I feel it. I apprehend the company of anyone if it heightens. Sadness rubs off like a dreaded disease; I try to be in the company of a crowd—strangers I barely know. They will never ask. They will just shrug and accept. Or maybe not.

When it starts to rain, I take it as a cue. A cue to cry in public. Tears and Rain: didn’t I tell you once that it’s the best combination ever? My tears are at their saltiest when I am sad, it balances the triteness of raindrops.

I go to the movie house when I am sad. Alone. Somehow, I am comforted by the darkness of the place. It eases a burgeon. Or so I thought.

Yesterday, I went to see a movie. Eclipse. It was due to lack of a choice. I must admit, I was never a fan so such choice was another thing to be sad about. I sat at the farthest side of the row. Then came two couples. Imagine this: Two cuddling couples in between them was me. What could be better? I was looking at the screen. Bella and Edward were kissing. I have never been so unaffected in my life. I could not feel anything. Then I felt my eyes drooping. I think I slept for a few minutes…then came the attack of the New Born. I pinched my self and tried keeping myself in tact for the rest of movies. I survived.

Then the lights were turned on. And then I saw a familiar face from the office. He was also watching the movie by himself.

I went home sadder then ever.

In the confusion and aftermath, you are my signal fire

...the only resolution and the only joy
is the faint spark of forgiveness in your eyes.

Why would you want to sing a song repeatedly if it doesn’t mean anything to you?

Why would you keep looking at a photo of a boat cruising over serene water on one April morning if as you said, "it's just an image produced by a distress heart trying to melancholize and romanticize everything"?

And why in the hell would you keep taunting my peace of mind when you knew I would never give in?

Why would you keep on repeating things when you already know the result?

It’s irrelevant. It is beyond one’s logic.

I reckon that some people do certain things consistently without (really) knowing the reasons. All they know is that, amidst the pain, they find some happiness doing it. After sometime, you’ll notice that out of that consistency and pattern the pain goes away and you’ll be contented with what’s left…emancipation.

I still get affected by water lilies waiting to bloom

Even though you’re far
My sensitivity awakes
I hear you cry, cuss in anger
Unknowingly I’ve caused your pain
In your defense—
I will reserved these water lilies
In time they will bloom
to give you reprieve.

~rtdc09152009~

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[postscript]

cornborer strikes back!

We we’re chatting the other day and realized how much comfortable it is to “talk” to him over YM than talking to him personally. I am not much of a YM-user but I have more time to think as I write down my response than when we banter at each other in real situation. I am not a very spontaneous person, but I get stunned talking to him and my mind always meander every time he discusses his ideas to me —things which still surprise me ‘til today.

Anyway he added two or more adjectives to an already wealth of words which he fondly (torture-ly) calls me. No pun intended, he claims. A humble mockery to his paronomasia into practice. I had to strike back and call him “fat ass” and retorted that he needed a body tune up. I wanted to add, "Mag-diet ka kase malapit nang pumutok mga damit mo!" Kaya lang that remark goes for me too. hehe. But what I said was subtle compared to being called “sira ulo and tibo!” ("maasar pikon!"). Buti na lang di ako madaling maasar, lately.

We wander for distraction, but we travel for fulfillment

To get away from one's working environment is, in a sense, to get away from one's self;
and this is often the chief advantage of travel and change.

~ Charles Horton Cooley ~

I will be gone for a few days...