happyeclair: (stress)
Martha was sitting on the bench, waiting for Benjamin to arrive. She was nervously waiting for him, the man she hasn't seen for a week. The man who has just confessed his love to her, the man who just revealed another facet of himself to her. They were supposed to meet up in the park in their university. They have this particular spot where they ended up hanging out regularly.

Martha was getting really nervous. She was looking at her watch over and over again. Did she get there too late? Was Benjamin's watch synchronized with hers? Did they actually agree on what time to meet? There were at least five different suggested times to meet-up. If ever she got it wrong, she'd just have to wait.

Rummaging through her bag, she took out a pocket-sized notebook and a pencil. She wrote down the items she needs to buy if she'd be baking his favorite apple pie. And she added to the list the things her sister seems to have been looking for like this brand of toothpaste and a huge tub of hair product. Oh and she might as well buy laundry detergents and stuff.

She looked at her watch again after making the list. No sign of Benjamin. Martha was getting impatient and at the same time even more nervous about getting the details wrong. Should she send him a text message? Should she call his cell? No, she can't. She musn't. Or should she?

Martha fidgets as she sits on the bench. People are passing her by. They don't pay attention to her. After all, everyone's got their own business. Why should they stop and stare at her? It's just that she can't help but look at everyone else, that's why she's getting conscious.

Moments later, she realizes it's not supposed to be this way. She needs to go away. Why is she the nervous one? Why should it matter what she thinks? Why would he have to lay his heart in front of her when it is not proper?

And so Martha brings out her mobile phone from her bag and sends him one short message. "See you after graduation. Maybe."
happyeclair: canada chibi (home)
It exists mainly for me. I need to remember to write.

I realize that at this point in my life, I am not confident about a lot of things. My writing, included.

If people end up finding this writing blog and if ever they do like anything I wrote here because they could relate or because the quality of writing was good, then I am glad someone finds it ok.

But really, I ask myself these days: Why do I do things? Why do I still want to write despite the number of things I've been through which are not related to writing at all? Why do I bother trying to write poetry despite the pains I go through when I write them? Why don't I write stories anymore? And why do I leave fragments of myself on the internet? This writer self being the most detached of all online personas.

I need to pick up myself again and connect these pieces together. The only one who could do that is my writer self, maybe? Because it is my writer self who could write and edit the 'me' you see online. I used to have an entire blog and a hodge podge of things about me were all there. That includes some of these old written works. I used to be comfortable with that hodge podge. And then I started learning to compartmentalize things.

Come to think of it, I still don't believe in compartmentalization completely. Because I think that one can only compartmentalize up to a certain extent, like normalizing databases. You could only normalize so much, imho. If you try to go further, it's just too fragmented already and all you'd end up seeing is too many scattered parts. But I think the whole thing is what's more important than the fragments per se. Fragments are just fragments. They won't make complete sense without the whole.

*sigh*

Anyway, I need to gain my self-confidence back. What little was there is practically gone. I get too critical of myself and when I get criticisms, I get even worse. So it's a losing battle, really. But I must do my best. I struggle and struggle, and that's part of life, I guess. Lol. So many struggles these days so I must learn to enjoy them as well?XD I don't know.

Tick tock

Oct. 7th, 2010 12:12 am
happyeclair: (journal)
Tick tock goes the clock
A friend gets wed
You hear a tick
A friend conceives
You hear a tock
A friend gives birth
Tick tock tick tock

Tick tock goes the clock
You see a baby
You hear a tick
The baby laughs
You hear a tock
The baby clings
Tick tock tick tock

The clock is deafening
You want to run away from it
But everywhere you go
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick tock
Tick tock tick tock

You wish you could wake up.

--------------------
I don't really right a lot of stuff these days and I just wish I could give my idea some justice.-_-
In any case, the tick tock thing was because I was talking with a friend about being women and how the biological clock is ticking especially for those 25 years old onwards.


Be still

Jan. 1st, 2010 10:27 pm
happyeclair: (Default)
Hush, heart
Be quiet now
Too many fears
Too many tears

It's too much
They're torture
Haunt you now
Haunt you now

Be strong
Stand firm
Breathe in now
Be still now

Stay still
Search within
Know yourself
Love yourself

You'll survive
You'll be fine
Wait awhile
You will smile.

----

This is weak, I know.

Shadows

Dec. 23rd, 2009 08:58 am
happyeclair: (Default)
The shadow of your presence looms
But I hear nothing
Nothing but the echoes of my thoughts.
When will your presence make itself come out and play
When will your presence make its way into the sun
I am tired of seeing shadows.
Shadows are nothing
Nothing but distortions of your past self
Shadows are nothing
Nothing but distortions of long gone moments.
I want to see beyond the shadows
And face the truth that is now
And face the truth that happens to be you.
happyeclair: (Default)
Originally posted on: 29 November 2005

This is a scene that entered my mind. It’s still hazy. It’s still lacking a lot of things. Very incomplete. It’s in Filipino. I have yet to translate it into English.

Isang hapon, may isang binatang naglalakad sa Ayala, tila malalim ang iniisip. Tila alam na niya kung saan siya dapat kumaliwa, kung kailan dapat tumawid, o kumanan sapagkat tila siya ay tulala, hindi siya nababangga o nadadapa. Patuloy lang siya sa kanyang paglalakad. Kung sinusundan mo siya ay hindi mo masasabi kung saan niya talaga nais magpunta sapagkat galing na siya sa may Paseo, pumunta na sa may Greenbelt, nakarating na sa may Waltermart at bumalik siya sa may Paseo. Naikot na niya ito. Balisa siya. Maraming iniisip.

Nadaan siya sa isang 7-11, ‘yung nasa may Valero, medyo malapit sa Paseo Center. Umupo siya sa isang upuan at tumitig sa mga binebentang babasahin. Hindi niya malaman kung siya ay bibili ng magasin o ng diyaryo. Tila nawawalan na siya ng pag-asa.

Tingnan natin ang binata. Nakasuot siya ng asul na polo at itim na pantalon. Malinis ang kanyang itim na sapatos at nakasuot din siya ng itim na medyas. May bitbit siyang envelope na may mga papel. Ang kanyang buhok ay maikli at maayos ang pagkaka-suklay. Sa kanyang mga bilugang mata ay makakakita ng lungkot at pagkabahala. Tila pagod na siya.

Tumayo ang binata at pumunta sa may mga mabibiling maiinom. Tiningnan ang mga presyo ng inumin: Sprite Ice na Php17, Coke na ganun din ang presyo, may tubig na iba’t iba ang presyo. Pinili nito ang isang bite ng Summit mineral water na kalahating litro na may halagang Php 12.25 dahil ito ata ang pinakasulit sa dala niya. Matapos kunin ang bote ng Summit ay tiningnan nito ang mga babasahin. May kopya pa ng Buy & Sell. Kumuha ito ng isa at tumungo sa kahera. Pagka-abot ng mga ito sa kahera ay dumukot siya ng singkwenta pesos sa kanyang bulsa.

Ano ba naman ito, Carlo? Pang-ilang trabaho na itong sinubukan mo subalit di ka pa rin natatanggap. Palibhasa’y ‘di pa tapos sa kolehiyo at ‘di pa sigurado sa nais gawin. Kahit ano na lang ba talaga ay susubukang pasukin basta lang kumita?

Bumalik siya sa pwestong pinanggalingan kanina. Binuksan ang Buy & Sell at naghanap muli ng maaaring subukang pasahan ng resume. Wala namang masama kung susubukan. Sana nga lang ay makahanap ng trabahong nais talaga niyang pasukin.

Ano ba naman ang alam ko? tanong ng binata sa sarili. Hindi siya nakatapos ng kolehiyo. Dalawang taon lang siya doon sapagkat naubusan ng panustos ang kanyang mga magulang. Sa ngayon siya ay nakatira pa rin sa kanyang tiyahin sa Kamuning ngunit ayaw naman niyang maging pabigat kaya siya ay naghahanap ng trabaho. Kung hindi lang nagkasakit ang kanyang ama ay malamang na nakatapos pa siya. Pero may kasalanan din naman siya. Nawalan siya ng scholarship dahil bumagsak siya sa ilang klaseng kinuha niya noong nakaraang semestre. Akala niya ay papasa siya ng Math pero sa kasawiang palad ay hindi umabot ang grade niya. Bukod sa math ay may mga klase pa siyang nabagsak dahil hindi sila magkasundo ng mga ka-grupo niya sa isang proyektong trinabaho nila. Dahil kaguluhang iyon ay hindi isinama ng mga ka-grupo niya ang pangalan niya nang sila ay magpasa ng proyekto nila sa guro nila. Hindi man lang siya sinabihan - sa totoo lang ay pinag-isipan niya nang maigi ang mga suhestiyon niya kaya lang ay wala namang sumang-ayon sa kanila dahil sa palagay nila ay hindi talaga maganda ang mga iyon. Kinausap niya ang kaniyang guro subalit huli na ang lahat - naipasa ng ang mga grado at nakasulat na ang grado sa classcard. Sayang nga naman daw ang mga ideya niya subalit ganoon talaga. Ulitin na lang daw niya ang klaseng iyon kung nais niya at sa halip na gawin niya ang proyekto na may kasamahan ay mag-isa na lang niya itong gawin sa susunod. May problema nga lang siya. Wala na siyang pera at wala na ang scholarship kaya kailangan niyang magtrabaho muna hanggang makaipon uli ng pambayad ng matrikula.

Bumuntong-hininga ang binata. Tiningnan kung ano ang mga pwede niyang subukang pasukan.

Espresso

Dec. 23rd, 2009 02:59 am
happyeclair: (Default)
Originally posted: 12 June 2005

I had a cup of espresso in my right hand. I could smell the aroma very well and it was something that made me a bit more relaxed. Just a little.

It was such a rainy afternoon and the cafeteria was almost full.

Almost.

The seat across me was empty.

The air was humid. It was almost stifling.

I was alone. Unless one would consider my ES 11 book and my Sharp calculator suitable companions, that is. I was in the middle of solving a bunch of sample problems on trusses and frames when you walked up to my table and asked:

“Miss, may I join you?”
And you even glanced around and seemed to want to say “There are no more vacant seats.” You didn’t have to do that because I knew that anyway.

I glared at my book and calculator, wishing that they were both gone. Then I looked up and met your gaze. I noticed that your nose wasn’t flat, that your eyes were round and that your bangs are a bit long but they did not cover your eyes. Your countenance was pleasant. And your smile - it seemed to me that you weren’t unperturbed at all by the horrid weather and the stuffiness of the cafeteria.

“Have a seat,” I mumbled, not knowing anything else to say to you. What was I supposed to say anyway?

You smiled and placed your bag on the floor. You said, “Thanks” and proceeded to sit on the chair. Then you placed your sketchpad on the table. I watched you idly flip through it, looking for an empty page. You had a mechanical pencil in your shirt pocket and you took it out. I was suddenly reminded of him - the one who told me I was beautiful, the one who told me I was a cat whose eyes haunted him. At that moment I wanted to get up from my seat and leave you alone to sketch your fantasies. I felt that the air in the cafeteria was choking me, as if there were actual hands around my neck. I got all the more distracted from solving my ES 11 sample problems - sort of. Hah. I felt as though I was hit by a truss.

You seemed to have noticed that I was getting a bit edgy. Why shouldn’t I be? All those bittersweet memories flooded my mind, sending it into a flight of panic.

I tried to not look at your sketchpad. How did I try this? I stared at my feet. My be-sandaled feet. And yet I got more memories of him. How could it be? Well, I was wearing the Mojo sandals he gave me when he found out that sandal straps got torn one time. I wanted to remove them from my feet already, to tell the truth. But I had no extra shoes in my locker.

The thought of the locker.

We used to share it. However, two weeks ago I changed the lock. He didn’t use it as much as I did anyway. The only reason he shared it with me was that he could leave gifts for me. Then again, it’s been a while since he surprised me. And now he has no reason to do so. And I shouldn’t expect anything.

I have to shake off these thoughts. I must focus on my problem set. It’s due tomorrow. My world has to go on turning without him by my side.

“You ok?” you asked me. You glanced at my problem set. I guess you think that I am freaking out because of it.

I tried to give you a smile, no matter how fake it is. “I’ll be fine,” I mumbled. That was such a lame thing to say. I try to avoid looking at you once again because all the pain comes back to me when you look my way.

———————————————-

That was definitely just a story. I had the idea during a rainy day while waiting for a ride by MRT Quezon Avenue station. Somehow, the stormy weather made me think of my college days and CASAA, the canteen by Palma Hall.
happyeclair: (Default)
Originally posted: 3/7/2005

The cool night breeze soothed Therese’s agitated nerves. She has been walking around, checking out clothes, paper products, lamps and books. This is what she does before a harrowing day at work. A job at the call center was definitely taxing for her. Just thinking about it made her mind swirl.

Why did she even apply for the job?

She knew the answer to that. Like any of her college batchmates, she took that job because of the money.

Therese walked on and went past by the series of malls as she went to her workplace. The fast talking reps filled the place. And in a while she’ll be sitting down in her station. Therese winced and shrugged. “Another day, another day,” she muttered.

Letters

Dec. 23rd, 2009 02:52 am
happyeclair: (Default)
Originally posted on: 2/25/2005

This is a story I wrote for Nikki. It was her birthday yesterday. I hope she likes it. :) I haven’t been writing much and I think that my writing skills are still, well, kinda raw. Comments will be appreciated :)

Amanda was writing a letter to her dear friend Jasmine. She hasn’t seen her since third grade. They have only been corresponding through letters ever since Amanda’s family has been travelling all over the world. Amanda’s parents are missionaries and so they have been traveling for a while until they got to Manila, where they seemed to be staying on a more long term basis.

It’s Jasmine’s birthday in two weeks time and Amanda wanted to surprise her friend by making sure that her letter would reach California by that time. In this day and age where e-mail and instant messaging have become the easiest way to communicate over long distances, Amanda still preferred to send and receive hand written letters. Jasmine was fine either way but to Amanda, nothing was more personal than a handwritten letter. She believes that everything that a person would like to say to someone could easily be read in handwritten letters. She remembered one of the times that Jasmine actually sent her a Christmas card. It was a year ago. Jasmine went into a bookstore and saw a cute drawing of a Christmas tree. Because she wanted to do something special that year (as she wrote Amanda), she decided to make homemade Christmas cards for her family and friends. The card came late because it was almost new year when it reached Amanda but she saw the effort that Jasmine put into the card. It was made of a red board and on the cover was a Christmas tree made with glitter glue. The bells and other decoration on the glitter glue Christmas tree were made of small circles of various colored paper, a bit of ribbon and the star was made of a glossy silver paper. Inside was the message: “Merry Christmas, Amanda! I will only probably make only one Christmas card for each of you, ever! I just wanted to do something special for you. It was tough and there were so many of you. I hope this gets to you in time for Christmas or I will hunt down the postman who has delivered it too late. I hope you like it and you better! I am only making it this year, ok? Remember that. And keep this because I might be famous one day and you have a proof that you knew me even before I became a star! xxxooo Jasmine” (and there was a small drawing of her face underneath the name). Amanda kept it in her box of memories which was hidden in her cabinet. She knew that Jasmine didn’t really want to show her affections for her love ones in an overly demonstrative manner that is why she had that haughty tone in her note within the card. And it was quite obvious to Amanda that Jasmine has not forgotten her vow to herself that she will be famous one day - either as an actress or a writer.

They have been corresponding over the years. They talked about the differences between the schools that they attended, the pets they had, what they got for their birthdays, the holidays that they celebrated, their favorite teachers, their most dreaded homeworks and projects and so many other things. Archives of their correspondences, mundane and profound, have been kept. They both had online journals but they didn’t really write everything that they thought and felt there. They didn’t really feel comfortable talking about some things on their journals. And those things are usually what their correspondences contain.

Lately, however, Jasmine seemed to be so busy, having no updates on her blog. At the same time, Amanda was active in the school newspaper. She was a features writer for her school paper and so she hasn’t the time to e-mail her dear friend Jasmine. They get to chat a little, when they are both online. High school life gave them too many activities in their respective schools. Amanda sighed. It’s been two weeks since they e-mailed and talked. It was vacation time for Jasmine, actually so she was expecting her friend to be online more often and to reply to her e-mails. Amanda thought, “Oh well. Maybe she was not at home because she was on a road trip with her friends in California.”

Amanda folded the stationery where she wrote her letter to Jasmine. She inserted a bookmark she made: several pieces of pressed flowers on a 2.5 cm by 6 cm pink colored board. She knows that Jasmine loved flowers. After that, she got the stationery’s matching envelope and sealed it with stickers of a floral design.

It was 3:30 pm on Amanda’s desk clock. She had to go to the post office to send it to California. After that she has to go home immediately because her mom told her that they have a visitor and that everyone had to be at home by 4 pm. Good thing that the post office wasn’t so far from their house. It was just two blocks away so she could still take her time and leisurely walk there. After all, what could be more important than for her to send her birthday greetings to her “bestest” friend in the whole world? Amanda had a smile on her lips, thinking about how happy her friend would be upon receiving that letter and the bookmark she made. Then an amusing thought entered her mind: maybe Jasmine would actually respond by sending her an actual handwritten letter instead of e-mail! Then again, Amanda knew her friend better than that. Jasmine will probably beg her parents to allow herself to call Amanda in Manila. Jasmine was always hyper and ecstatic when she receives surprises.

Dropping the letter off to the post office was a quick trip and Amanda took her time walking home. She thought of what other things she might write Jasmine the next time that she sends a handwritten letter. Maybe she will send a picture of herself with the entire staff of the student paper the next time she writes.

Amanda got home and saw that her mom was slicing some banana bread. She helped her mom prepare the orange juice and set the table in the dining area of their house. Then the doorbell rang.

“Dingdong!”

Amanda told her mom, “I will answer the door, Mom!” And she ran to the front door.

Upon opening the door, Amanda squealed with delight and she found herself being hugged and pinched by a teen-age girl with really long red hair and amazingly grey eyes. It was Jasmine, her friend from California! Girlish shrieks reverberated in the entire house. There were so many things they were saying simultaneously.

“Oooh! It’s been such a long time!”
“Since when have you gotten here?”
“You cut your hair short, Amanda! But it looks great!”
“It’s sooo wonderful to see you again!”
“I know! It’s been so long ago since we last saw each other.”

And Amanda saw that Jasmine had her mom with her standing right behind them. She was grinning. “We wanted to surprise you, Amanda. Jasmine almost wasn’t able to keep it a surprise that we’d be here.”

Then Amanda’s mom was suddenly by the front door as well. She made sure that they all went inside. The mothers were sitting side by side and their daughters were happily chatting across them.

Amanda told Jasmine her concerns. “You know, I already thought you were on a road trip with your friends from California!”

Jasmine laughed. “Really? You think so?” She giggled. “It was hard for me to not tell you! Everytime I saw you were online, I wanted to tell you. That is why I didn’t e-mail you and didn’t use the instant messenger!”

Amanda stuck out her tongue. “You were mean! Nothing at all from you.”

“But if I talked to you online, I wouldn’t have been able to keep this visit a secret.”

“I know.” They both grinned. “So how long are you staying here?”

Jasmine looked at her mom. “Three weeks, right, mom?” Her mom nodded. “I will actually spend my birthday here! This is mom and dad’s gift to me.”

They both shrieked with delight. Amanda hugged her friend. “This is great! I can bake you a cake and show you around the city.”

Jasmine smiled. “Uh huh. Definitely. Ain’t it great?”

Then Amanda remembered something. “Oh no! I already sent you my present!”

Jasmine raised her eyebrow. “You have?” Then they both bursted out laughing. “Well, we got to get take it back!”

And so the two girls had a long talk as to how they were going to the post office to the post office and try to retrieve the letter that Amanda wrote for Jasmine.
happyeclair: (Default)
What is dancing if you dance alone?
What is singing if there's torment in your soul?
What is loving if you can't be with the one?
What is living if you're destined to fall?

In the darkest corner of your soul
You want to know how to belong
You want to sing a happy song
You want to get out of this hell hole

A myriad of sorrows and pains
When suddenly a burst of light -
It cut through the pouring of the rain
And lent you wings to fly in the night.

The day you saw her fall from her tower
You wanted to be the white knight to save her
But the truth is that you were her slayer
With your own strength you've crushed her

The light turned into darkness
Shrouding your battered soul
And you ask for her forgiveness
But it's too late, you have to take its toll

On your mind and in your weary heart
You realize too late what you wanted
You wish you could go back to the start
But Fate's cruel and has left you dumbfounded.

happyeclair: (Default)
 “Yomiko,” Donnie whispered.

“Hmmmmm?” was Yomiko’s feeble response. She was out of breath, exhausted.

“I think that we should try looking elsewhere.” Donnie held her hand, trying to lead her away. But Yomiko just stood there, staring at the big shelf, scanning every title there was.

“We’ve looked in this shop for around 10 times already.”

“I know, but…”

“Maybe we could ask the shopkeeper when the new stocks are arriving.”

Yomiko sighed and let Donnie lead her away from the shelf. They walked towards the information desk and talked to the little old man. The little old man told them that the new stocks would be coming in the following week. Donnie and Yomiko left the bookshop empty-handed.

Meanwhile, in the shadows, there was a woman holding a hard-bound book.

Loneliness

Oct. 8th, 2009 10:00 pm
happyeclair: (Default)
‘Pag ang tao’y nabubugnot
Ang ulo’y kinakamot
Buhok sinasabunot
Talagang nayayamot.

Punung-puno ang utak
Ng patsutsada’t talak
Nais kunin ang itak
Nang matuloy ang balak.

Mata’y puno ng kuha
At nawalan ng sigla
Hindi na mahinuha
Kung bakit s’ya’y lumala.

Alaalang malungkot
Nais ibaon sa limot
Kaya paikot-ikot
Habang balot ng kumot.

happyeclair: (Default)
Ang kawawa kong payong
Lahat ay sinusuong
Kahit anong daluyong
Siya’y tumatayong bubong.

Suman

Oct. 8th, 2009 09:58 pm
happyeclair: (Default)
We used to have a Suman web ring.  It was because of what Dean Alfar said during iBlog.  It became a joke among bloggers during that time.

Nariyan lang ang suman
Ito’y katakam-takam
Heto na’t iyong tikman
Talagang malinamnam.
happyeclair: (Default)
I think these two should be in one post even when I didn't write them together originally.

Tikom na aking labi
Malamig na ang kape
‘la ka pa ring sinabi
Ikaw ba’y talagang torpe?


---

Sa iyong mga mata
Sarili ay nakita
Pag ikaw ay kasama
Pagsinta'y nadarama
happyeclair: (Default)
Planner Mode ni John Wiegley
Ngayon ni Sacha Chua
Talagang nakawiwili
Talagang nakatutuwa.

John Wiegley’s Planner Mode
Now Sacha Chua’s
Truly captivating
Truly amusing.

___

Emacs na mahiwaga
Sa Planner natutuhan
Madali pag mat’yaga
At mayro’ng kabuluhan!

Mysterious Emacs
was learned through Planner
Easy if you persevere ...
(I forgot how I translated it and the one on the archive is incomplete)

happyeclair: (Default)
These tanaga seem to reflect my state of melancholy during the time I wrote them.
 
Nar’yan sa kalangitan
Ang maliwanag na b’wan
Talang nagkikislapan
na aking tinitingnan.


---

Kahit ikaw ay sawi
-’yan din ay mapapawi
Sa sumpang namutawi
-’yan din ay mababawi.

happyeclair: (Default)
These are two separate tanaga.  At the time I wrote them I was just having fun playing with words and thinking of possible tabloid-worthy poems.

Tinidor at tirador
Dala ng isang traydor
Pagpasok niya sa parlor
Tinumba ng birador.



---

Sa sobrang pagkainip
Sa sinakyan nilang dyip
Barkada ay naidlip
Patay sa panaginip


happyeclair: (Default)
 About books:

Mga akdang binuklat
maraming nakasulat
at isinisiwalat
kaya ako’y namulat.

About cloth:
Hinabing mga tela
makukulay na hibla
binenta sa Maynila
ngunit pera’y nawala.

Some tanaga

Oct. 8th, 2009 09:37 pm
happyeclair: (Default)
 Here is one:

Bituing kumikislap
At mga alitaptap
Pinapawi ang hirap
Ng isang nangangarap.

And another:
Saranggola kong ito
Sa hangin nalilito
Paroon at parito
Wala ring sinasanto.

And the last one, so far:
Paghaplos ng hangin,
pagkislap ng bituin,
mga sulyap na palihim -
masarap sa damdamin.

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