yeaa bah.. phone patch.

One True Love a.k.a Gone For Good guy was on the phone today.

very early to check if i had hangover with the Cuervo’s i had lastnight.

GFGg : how are you bai? abi ko mag jog ka?

Me : ha! di man gani ko ka bangun.. jog pa kaha. sayuha nimu ui!

GFGg : aw wala lang. ikaw early man sad lagi ka mata?

Me : hala ui, ga sigeg ring ang phone. tubagun nalang.

GFGg : a tubagun NALANG.

Me : yup. unsai ayu?

GFGg : tambay lang here sa house bai, as useless!

Me : nuh? as useless ka dya karun!

GFGg : i was just checkin on you ba kay daghan daghan sad to imung na drink oi

           and Ryan came late nah, hubog pud! unsa mani ngyea, tita and nephew,

           drinkers kaayu!

Me : haha lagi. wait sah bai ha kay kiss sah ko Baby Zizou. adto sah ko pikas room.

GFGg : ok bai.

– three minutes after –

Me : bai?

GFGg : yes bai?

Me : unsa pa man?

GFGg : who’s your ka text lastnight bai? medyo busy man ka gamay, tsk tsk tsk.

Me : haha. wa oi. cebu people. nikalit lang baya kog ka MIA.

GFGg : tuod nuh? why man kalit ka ni uli?

Me : Ambut lagi, i just feel like it.

GFGg : I just feel like it lugar ha!

         Unsa ng ga ingug tingug diha bai? ga computer ka?

Me : yup. heheh

GFGg: unsa lugar?

Me : blogetz!

GFGg : bout?

Me : this.

GFGg : unsay this?

Me : atung conversation.

GFGg : ah mao bah mao bah.. payts gyapun. wa kay lingaw dya nuh?

Me : waz. nada. zilch. ka remember ka sa Zilch bar sauna bai?

GFGg : i don’t go out baya bai. banda banda ra bya akung life, pina koral, punchbowl

           and usahay rapud baya kaayu na basta naa ray tukar. so son’t ask me ana bai, why? what about it man diay?

Me : la ra gud ui. tambuk!

GFGg : kaw gani.

Me : hehehe. getting slimmer man sad.

GFGg : ako pud!

Me : dawbe, hahaha.

GFGg : Playing the conyo game lugar ha! Futbol.

Me : what conyo game? ikaw diha. you know me, cowgirl. way libug.

        It’s not conyo kaha,lingaw man kaayu bai. uban mi ni Kiddo, rmemeber Duck Holiday?

GFGg : yeah bai from Killerbee dibah? dula gyapun siya diay?

Me : uh huh. goalie.

GFGg : powera nuh! dawbe chicks lugar kaayu ta didto ga dula dula?

Me : ahay! mulang! bitaw ui, paytz ra gud.

       atai nag message si Choi, ga init daw iyang ulo sa ako hahaha!

GFGg : why man?

Me : secret.

GFGg : ngun ka naa na siya sa gawas..

Me : yup i think sa carribeans! he just had a baby.

GFGg : mao ba. maayu. pina message lugar ha.

Me : alangan migo gud mi. heheheh

GFGg : i know bai. *phone ringing* who’s phone to bai?

Me : uhmmm, ambut.. basin kang kuya.

GFGg : ahhh.. when k balik work?

Me : dunno bai.

GFGg : seryoso kaayu ta the other day ba?

Me : kaayu.first time, niya last time pa gyud nga ingun atu!

GFGg : lagi.

Me : change topic ta wui. mana to.

GFGg : maka keep up paka sa imung typing dya bai?

Me : hahaha. ga dali dali tawun.

GFGg : hahaha.*in a slow tone* sige mag hinay hinay ko sturya.

Me : ay dah k ran a oi.

GFGg : kamusta naman to si kuan bai, R–y ba to?

Me : ah si R–y. cebu. sleep pa tingali. or ambut. nagkaun? ambut lang.

GFGg : pina you don’t know lugar? wa diay mu ga text?

Me : text man, lastnight.

GFGg : ah siya day imung katext lastnight.

Me : yup.

GFGg : karun bai wala?

Me : wala. nganu man?

GFGg : nangutana ra gud. di pwede?

Me : dili.

GFGg : why man? strictaha gud.

Me : hehehe. wa ra gud. k raman. busy to siya.

GFGg : busy with what bai?

Me : ha?! why do you ask. wa gyapun ko kahibalo kung busy siya or not.

       ask him nalang if you want.

       bitaw, i think he is still asleep pa.

GFGg : ah. private na lugar kaayu ka karun.

Me : no. but wala lang. i gotta go bai, ligo nako. go ko kets with la familia.

GFGg : ok bai. text text lang?

Me : pwede pwede, kung di ko busy.

GFGg : ah grabeha gud ana nga tubag.

Me : hehehe lagi.

GFGg : bye bai.

Me : ciao!

cdo : day 1 .. pain

What is the face of pain?  It is the stranger in the eyes you used to know, the ones that once looked at you–not through you–the way they do now.  The face of pain is a robber.  It takes away relationships and makes the ease that you once had, the familiarity, something that has to be earned again–something you have to work for–and it does not come easily.  So many become the new easily won friends, pushing you out–every four hours–crushed or whole?  Is it time yet?  Truly, the givers and the caretakers are all that matter now; you are superfluous—gift-wrapping in a world where presents can only be looked at–because no one has the strength to open them.

On a good day, pain waits patiently, yet arrogantly, and sits like an obtrusive houseguest, merely stopping by on its journey to its next destination, or perhaps it might stay just one more night, never asking your permission, but staying just the same. 

Pain—a four-letter word—a signal that something is wrong.  What happens when pain becomes all that is wrong and nothing that is right?  Its force is so strong that it has the ability to change the character of life into the hope of joy in death; those of us who are merely the observers of the pain sufferers are left to “suffer” the fringes of pain’s wrath.  How powerful is this force of life that emanates from our own bodies, and yet is transferable to all those who seek to eliminate it in our midst?  Comfort—the respite of pain.

In the days when those we love fight the pain as their last battleground here on earth, we too must fight to remember that it is our time to become warriors as well.  We may stand by their bedsides and not be recognized.  We may stroke their brows in comfort, and be yelled at to stop because we are bothering them.  It is possible that no matter how hard we try, there may not be a way to alleviate the worst parts of pain, for a moment, until the shot helps—until then, we can only talk softly and say, “It’s ok. The medicine will work in just a few minutes.” We can try to say it in between our tears.  And most of all we can just be there, because even if death is eminent, and you assume that the patient may not be aware that you are there—be aware—hearing is the last thing to go. So Listen—they know.

Therefore, if you think you cannot stand the pain, and you are tired of the strain of watching the face of someone who does not know you—remember you must always be able to know the face in the mirror—the one that God knows.  There is so much life left in dying.

cdo : day 1 .. letting go.

How do we find the courage to always be true to ourselves—even if we are unsure of where we are? and what we want? or on what people would want for us?we all create our own reality and become the victim of that reality, i might have rebelled against that — and i am indeed paying a high price.

i was probably used  and manipulated. with no consideration for my feelings. he was there and he made me pass on the secret mystery,awakening the the unknown energy that we all posses.

i am a women who is currently here but lived in the exterior of my past,and making no secret of the fact either. am i paying a price? yes. i should have not if i had repressed my natural exuberance. i would have been bitter, frustrated, always concerned about ‘what others might think’ always saying ‘ i’ll just sort these things out’, then i’ll devote myself to my dream, always complaining ‘that the conditions are never quite right’.

Everything has its reason for being. we need only distinguish the temporary from the lasting: the unavoidable is temporary; the lessons of the unavoidable are lasting. To what extent does this apply to everyday life? Has the complexity of late century existence rendered this advice obsolete? Or has the essential truth of this observation remained valid for thousands of years?

what is permanent? only change. but why do we sometimes look back?Maybe, like me, i lost track of this special person while i was away looking for answers, and the insights faded, and the world seemed colder. Wouldn’t you like to see that person again, ask the bigger questions that still haunt you, receive wisdom for your busy life today the way you once did when you were younger?

i gave myself that second chance. i had to come back to the core. to the reason why i was in this unfamiliar place, to this very puzzling cove. Knowing he was settled,i visited him once, just like an ordinary visit. our rekindled relationship turned into one final “talk“: lessons in how to live. there was great clarity in it that i let out a big breathe after finishing up the last puff halfway to the end of my cig, finally the man who sneaked up and grabbed my heart gave it back. there was lessons of letting go. even if malice was deserted, i never attempted to even to touch his hand. our conversation has to end just like the special relationship did.

i step out with a very feather-like feeling.

Shouldn’t the world stop? Don’t they know what happened to me?

But the world did not stop. i weakly grabbed the car door. and when i flopped in the seat, i felt the weight of myself again. the feather-like feeling has eloped with the closure of the beautiful past.

then i found myself on the way back home & back to what you call now. what about now? what about Cebu? what about.. i thought.

Am i ready to get back to the almost soon-to-be-beautiful story of now? or a little chill at

Lonely Island?

What’s wrong with staying on Lonely Island?  There are those who have been stranded on Lonely Island that have created some of the greatest works.  Emily Dickinson, considered one of the loneliest poets, wrote a poem a day.  And Virginia Woolf, a lonely and clinically depressed writer, wrote several monumental works.  Would it be such a bad idea to explore Lonely Island a bit?  If you’re already there, you might as well see the sights.  Take the time to go into the inner jungle on the island.  You might discover a few hidden treasures, while you’re there.  But don’t stay too long because the island has a way of getting to people.

Lonely Island it is.

i have rushed the days that it turned into months without me noticing it. i have cut loose on the grip to life. it took me pain to realise that there is something that must be done back here for me to fully accept and understand the present. i have overcome the greatest fear. the “talk“. i will not try to justify any bulls*it, but now i know,something can bloom out of the ashes in life.

lastnight, Aug 2 two oh oh 7.

What about lastnight? i was with Kempet at St. Francis. ofcourse i’f get rooged since aunt Lolly and him, tight. but Crio’s sister said i slimmed down,bah! the spotlight was back at me. sorry kempet. it’s not really a competition with anybody but anyhoo, yeah, somebody noticed i had slimmer me now. *wink*

I only ate a li’l coz i already had fries and burg back home. plus some Brownie a La Mode at La Marea early that hapon. talkin about sweets, i swoon.

i din’t use my infamous bandage, coz i know it would lead to many questions  and i can’t keep saying : “i did not get this from a very romantic position, ok?” but wait, the other guy from the therapy at my doctor’s office really got it from that. mmmm, he makes me wonder alot. bad thoughts! no, kinky thoughts. nuh uh uh.. poof it out kit! but anyway, the bandage? it’s ok, i had injection to keep my elbow from swelling, so i thought lastnight,it’ll be fine.

so then, the beer. i noticed, i was the only one drinking, from the girl’s circle. hmmp. Jaja said she can’t drink since she and her hubby had appointment at 8a next day, and Myka, wasn’t really in the mood lastnight. she looked tired, well, she was tired. very. aaawww, Myka, i feel you. Kempet? no trace of liquor anywhere near him for a month or so, he’s into Pilar Pilapil, so doosh liqs! i mean, liquor not the liq lick.. hahahaha! lablab kempet ruva!

Ja and us were talking about how i got linked with guy named HELL. well, past is past so it was easy talkin about it, no more grudge, no more bit of anything in my rib, it  was just plainly talking about someone. relaying the details.

every night gatherings has an end. so Ja and Dido had to go, Myka and Crio off to home. so it was just me and the rest that was there. i just wanted to gulp up the rest of my the bottle and then home. done!

i was home before halfway 4am. and then i had one more cigarrette. then SlumberLand.

oh, i remember, i got a kiss lastnight. a kiss, no no no, a smack. *sigh*

my exBf.

missing Angelo.

the night that resulted to a lot of my very own “How?”

friday. drinking sesh at the pad.

then almost halfway the third hour, everything went not OK.

battery flying, SIM card bouncing, cellphone broken.

then, the outside area became the scene for awhile.

then back inside.

my margarita? spilled. the bottle puking the liquid.

and then, the bottle? smashed into his forehead like a soccer ball banged to be on the goal.

then the outside.

we walked that way, trying to atleast catch the taxi where she might have hailed to somewhere.

but the real catch? she was hiding just near the gate that we din’t care to notice.

i was sitting with my head on the table trying to get a nap while they’re talking.

yes, a nap? a shut-eye for a quick moment, trying to convince myself it was jsut a dream,a bad one.

but it wasn’t.

next. we were inside again.

this time, the room was semi-cleaned up, but still looking horrible with full cast of hothead people.

there were silent screams, unecessary smiles, angry well-deep eyes, words unspoken, confusing details, trapped opinions. 

one big bite on his upper left chest made a silent second.

then back to the chaotic aura.

clutched fists hitting the walls with no hesitations.

then the bed. the rest to a healthy slumber. but that’s just wishful thinkin,

nothing seemed to ooze down the tension,

everyone was trapped into the pretension of wanting it to end.

i was calm.

but i was angry. i was sick of the whole thing, my patience was a bit frustrated.

though i din’t have time to shout, i just stayed calm.

and then, another set of flying shoes and socks.

walking out and coming back barefoot,

grabbing of full beer bottles,

bidding sad angry goodbyes. everything was not the way it should’ve been.

i was thinking of a happy time, but fate has it’s own steer.

and that was it.

next thing i knew, i was sitting at the corner of my bed,

solemnly accepting what has happened,

solely forgetting the root of the cause. there’s no time for that.

i was just there staring at the shirt of the guy who went home topless,

stared at the clustered meringue, the smell of margarita in my nose,

the taste of beer in my tongue, the confused mind, the now silent space.

trying to fight back the event in my mind, but slowly swallowing it to my system.

it’s all done, all gone.

the person i believed in so much,

the person i cannot gauge how much payback be needed,

the person i looked up on with full respect.

is the friend i said i would never talk to ever again.

i dunno if i just said that, that night.

tell me, how does everything get back the normal way?

how do you erase such a disaster? how do we forgive each other? how does it even begin again?

how do you end a friendship with someone close? someone who believed in you rather than to his bestfriend,like i thought so. or maybe is true.

how do you just let go of something so nice, so worth it, so fun?

how do you leave it to history?

should you? or should you not?

how do you say sorry? truthfully.

will silence heal the wound?

or will numbness be a better idea?

how do you take back a judgement you knew wasn’t necessary to say out loud?

how do i take back the accusation? the comparison?

the wrong belief for that entire night?

how do you let someone know, you are saddened?

how will i convince myself that the past has nothing to do with what’s going on?

how will i satrt accepting that’s it’s not gonna be happy all the time?

how? the putang inang HOW’s..

letting go of the morning king, welcoming my bedtime hero.

today is not boring.

it’s easy.

easy like sunday mornings of year 2004.

waking up with the smell of dew, and fresh sunbeam flashing

through One True Love’s window.

the putang-inang mga mornings.

with you, my morning king.

your highness is my highness.

in your jersey with the patch of your beautiful never-been mine-and-will-never-be-my lastname.

seeing your arms tug the pillow loose.

the blankie almost separated from your body.

your hair, etched like combs were not invented.

the air that goes in and out of your nose, makes me happy,

every morning, you are alive,

by my side.

i am letting go.but i will miss the mornings.

you will always be the morning of my life.

NOTE: please tilt your head.

          i took advantage of the sunbeam on one of those mornings with him.