white paper quotes

quote;

she was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. she was beautiful, for the way she thought. she was beautiful, for that sparkle in the eyes when she talked about something she loved. she was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile even when she was sad. no, she was not beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. she was beautiful, deep down to her soul.

it is always easy to look at people ad make quick judgements about them, their present and their past. but you would be amazed at the pain and tears a single smile hides. what a person shows to the world is a only one tiny facet of the iceberg hidden from sight. and more often than not, it is lined with cracks and scars that go all the way to the foundation of their soul. never judge, learn to respect and acknowledge the feelings of another.

i am not a saint myself. am still learning to be better in every way, every day. i hope one day that i could be objective in most things that i face and learn to accept the fact that everything happens with a reason that could be explained. people have crossed me in ways that hurts my feelings and i could not have penned them down in words. i hope that i could do well in ways that would not hurt others like they have hurt me unnoticed.

with a little more care and sensitivity, this world could be so much better for everybody.

emotional strain

i think it is safe to say that most people would have felt suffocated and overwhelmed when good things (or bad things) come in heaps when you least expect them to.  it is at those times when you almost lose faith in thinking that good things will still happen in your life, that these blessings come pouring in. verbal support, physical strength and stability you can count on, sights&sounds of happiness, these and more - comes knocking at your door just begging for you to open up your heart to just welcome them into your life, however miserable you may be at that point of time.

 

i do, and still am filled with anxiety over things i couldnt control. things of my own doings, as well as things i never would have seen coming - maybe from a year ago. i wouldnt say it is all good or bad, at all, but i am still flabbergasted at all the angst im experiencing over the past hour and a half looking at this blank page not knowing what to write or fill in first!

 

it is nerve-wrecking, to have an overflowing of ideas and thoughts but an inability to express it as best i could. not like this. not when everything feels so jumbled up in knots that nobody have ever discovered and put a name to. not when i am scared to face it just yet.

 

this is, overwhelming. it is.

 

i do have panic attacks that affect me quite badly at very odd times, i just dont deal with it like a medical condition that i should. i guess that somehow helped me face most of my doubts i wouldnt say anybody from a medical background would have approved of. i avoid them...for as long as i could. i just try shutting that part that brings panic, up to a point when the problem fills up the entire mind like a merry-go-round that just doesnt stop rotating and playing that awfully enchanting melody. (enchanting melodies can be scary, yes?)

 

until all these that bugs me get sorted out nicely and i can tuck myself to peaceful slumbers, this blog wont be an outlet to another trivial and/or meaningless post - i promise.

to expedite control

...am back to work, on a very sunny September week. September is here(for the past three days, oops!) and here we go counting down to another brand new month. time and time again we remind ourselves to step out of the box and do something about ourselves/our lives/our family/our friends/our community. what do you actually write in your diaries or daily journals? is it only on your diet plans, or your whole outlook towards the past, present or the future?

 

lately, i have been digging through old journals and scribbles from old notebooks in an effort to rediscover myself. what i envisioned myself to be from the eye of my 15-year-old self, what was most important to be, growing up(in my own words) and what exactly are my priorities now. i browse through relevant&unrelevant sources from the internet, have random inquisitive conversations with people from many walks of life, i talk to myself...literally. no, im not going bonkers, but yes, i talk to myself - or to my dogs. i know that i have come to a lot of significant realizations from those silly banters. what you actually tell yourself without being overly conscious of your surroundings or to be overly sensitive of another being's feelings is a revelation of some sort in itself. you tell yourself what you really want to, from the heart to the heart. simple. then think. not think of what you wanted to say before saying it to yourself, then what is the difference from holding a normal daily conversation with people? just listen to yourself, always give some time to yourself above the rest. you will feel better.

 

note: dont have to really talk to yourself, though.

 

i wont say that i failed myself in any ways or that i have succeeded much. what i know for sure is that i improved myself and learnt things that i ought to learn in my process of living this life. i have got my fair shares of tangible and magical moments. to say the least, as normal as my life would seem i think it is only wise to say that i lived it the way many couldnt have been able to, at my age.

 

curiosity often brings many surprises. i think that without the urge to want to experience something new, something that you dream about, there seem to have no push for you to reach for that particular matter.

 

 

 Sears Tower Glass Balcony, credits to Jared Newman (via DesignCrave.com)

 

im ending this post with this amazing photo of a glass balcony. the whole dreamy setting even in broad daylight makes me slightly more enthusiastic for possibilities that even more awesome things will be done.

 

 

cheers! xo

rules of an analogue Sunday

sundays actually IS the fine line between weekend and the start of a weekday. it changes mood. it changes the clarity of thoughts some people had during the relaxing weekend to being emotionally disturbed and being worried about work/people/life. sunday makes you think that time passes by just to fast, and lets you ponder about lost time and how to cherish moments. sunday - is all that and more.

my sunday is a day i decide to not do anything significant at all. i dont plan to do anything. i dont want to plan anything, on a sunday. it is totally different with things coming up randomly and we ended up doing it or doing something just because we want/need to do it at that point of time. so, sunday is my unofficial-do-nothing-day. 

i wake up late. i deal with whatever personal business i have in the washroom and all that. i look into the mirror at my own face for the longest time that i want to without having to rush for work or whatever planned event like a weekday. i stare at the bright blue sky and pick up a book or the phone or the hairdryer or opens the closet for outfit of the day. i can open the window and the doors and go around the house compound i have grown so accustomed to all my life, that i can walk with my eyes closed without tripping over anything. i just do whatever that comes up to mind. it is that kind of day. it should be that kind of day. a day for yourself, for your family, whatever you make out of it.

sunday, the day before work or school or all the formality the week could be for you&me.

sunday.

so, this is my life. and i am telling you that im both happy and sad and im trying to figure out how that could be. one question that i have been pondering for a bit more than the rest is, will this habit last for a few more weeks or will it ever end? i am still wondering, as of now.

...and then i will get bored and get trapped because that is what happens to me.

hmm...

how do you spend a sunday?

some kind of beautiful

regardless of what state of mind we are in, we have our very own definition of beauty. what might appeal to you does not necessarily appeal to me in the same way. maybe a little, but at a different perspective. maybe that difference applies value to everything we do or say or think. architecture would have been very significantly different to a carpenter from a small village than to an experienced architect from the big city. both have their core principles that works in their own ways. there is no denying that we live&prosper in the most opposite of extremes, but swap it the other way around it could be the end for both parties. just saying.

 

food for thought;

every project is unique: a site and a circumstance, a culture, a climate, a program. all of these forces are unique and you need a concept to hold the manifold pieces together, an idea that makes the project significant in its place and for its purpose. that is always the way i begin projects. // steven holl's answer when questioned about his sources of inspiration.

 

now, look at these;

 

Courtesy pf Estée Lauder Companies Inc. (via archdaily.com)

Donna Karan's Woman Perfume Bottle by Zaha Hadid

 

 

 

 

 

Villa Extramuros by Vora Arquitectura

pictures credit to Adrià Goula (via archdaily.com)

 

beauty of the week, from me, to sign off. have a great weekend! xo

i did it.

i made the big decision. a decision totally on my own. with support from all the key people in my life i think i could work this and other worse things.

so, where to go from here?

the usually serious dude in the office talked in a very compromising manner to me when we spoke. nonetheless, i felt a lot more lighthearted after spilling my hearts out to a stranger of some sort. there are so much possibilities in the world that i could have this brave heart into. we will see...

what happens to the comfort zone that i will be leaving? all the things that i have became familiar with all these years, im throwing away in hope of a better prospect - a future i could start afresh in. this could probably mean one thing, that my mind have grown up. grown to learn to take or let go, that is best for myself and the people around me.

things take time. yes, they do.

i am taking my time now.

my time to grow...

she was a wild girl & there is grass in her hair

maybe things dont happen for a reason. maybe we are just grasping for ways to make sense of the chaos around us. maybe we are giving meaning to things that has no meaning. maybe we are clinging to hope so hard that we forget about reality. what if we are wrong and nothing is meant to be? we are just lost souls wandering endlessly, desperately seeking comfort from the notion that things will work out in the end no matter what. what if we have tricked ourselves into believing that everything will be okay in the end just so that we dont have to face the reality that maybe it wont?

there is only one man that stays forever in my heart, ever! my father. he has been my confidante over anything serious or not, being the person i tell silly things to and get scoldings from. i can tell him everything, well, almost everything and i expect the best from him. sigh. maybe the only person greater than him is God and that doesnt come close to being a person. God is a being greater than anything, yes?

so, here i am with a man i deem fit to be my other half for the rest of my journey...

i am scared, most of the time actually. being attached to someone or something that you have no idea of how long it is going to last is freaking me out all the time. once in a while the fear fades because i find something else to obsess with my time, short breaks from the craziness of fussing over this love, but sufficient to keep me sane for a bit.

it is rare you find that guy who is more than just your boyfriend. you tell him anything and everything, from your deepest secrets to what you ate for breakfast. you laugh about stupid things together, kiss like its your first time, and love without limits. he is your trust, keeper of your heart and best of all, bestfriend. dont let him go.

one thing

...that never stops and is constantly changing is time.

only time never waits. only time changes you&me. only this one thing. it heals and it hurts.

ever wonder how long it takes to change your life? what measure of time is enough to be life-altering? is it four years, like high school? one year? an eight-week walking tour? can your life change in a month, or a week, or a single day? we are always in a hurry to grow up, to go places, to get ahead, but when you are young, one hour can change everything.

there are all kinds of ways to force yourself to decide. we do it all the time, make decisions. if we actually thought about every decision we made, we would be paralyzed. which word to say next. which way to turn. what to look at. which number to dial. you have to decide which decisions you are actually going to make, and then you have to let the rest of them go. it is the places where you think you have a choice that can really mess you up.

25th July

people say its crazy, to fall so hard so fast. but i was blind to the world when it came to him.

we have had our trials and tribulations, as every relationship. it has been a very hard, very overwhelming past year. he has been my rock, my foundation, my stability. there is not a single day iwill not say that i am head over heels, infinitely in love, with this boy.

i told myself if i ever fall in love again, i would be careful.

i dont want to believe that fate brought us together, or that we were made for one another, or that we were soulmates. i want us to be together because we choose to be together, because we both believed that us was more important than just you&i, because our story revolved around the words to be continued… rather than that cop-out happily ever after.  i want us to be diligent and tedious and dedicated, because at the end of the day i never wanna think that this relationship was anything less than what i had worked for, what i had put in. that quote is my reminder everday, that he is worth it.

the war of love

i love you forever,

to you this i swore:

i will quiet your silent screams,

help heal your shattered soul

until once again,

my love, you are whole.

this feeling

how many times should i say i love you?

in this moment, i am not sure what i feel for you. i have been raised in a society that both exalts love and fears it. a society that tells me love is rare and experienced only under particular circumstances; beginning with family and radiating outward to long term relationships and close, time-worn friendships. to love too quickly is deemed foolish. to love too many, is superficial. our tragedy is that we believe something can only be beautiful when it is rare. we exist in a society that dismisses the beauty in everyday life. we overlook the small, fleeting moments that make up our day, because we have become jaded to the heaviness of a dog sleeping on our lap; the warmth of someone else’s fingers filling the space between our own.

someone once told me in a hushed voice, to be cautious with whom i spoke those three words to. i always felt there was something wrong with me; that i did not comprehend the immensity of love. i felt it so easily for the friend curled up beside me in bed the morning after whispered conversation, for the young man with whom i shared a cup of coke with each day for a year. sometimes it is okay to abandon caution and open yourself up to the possibility of a connection with another human being. it is okay to be vulnerable.

we were born with an incredible capacity for love. the quiet woman on the walkway could be the person who gives you a new perspective on life—the one who opens you up with tremendous ease and assuages your fears and puts out your fires. the English language does not contain the vocabulary to express different levels of love—instead using one abstract word to encompass the entire complicated spectrum of human emotion.

in Spanish, love between family is separated from love between spouses. in Greek, there are four distinct terms, each with its own meaning. working with such a limited capacity for expression, it is no wonder our society as a whole appears to perpetually be in turmoil over the concept of love. we are in constant pursuit of it, yet question it when we experience it; herald it’s beauty, yet fear that we will be left broken in its wake. love becomes a contradiction. it simultaneously becomes the root of our joys and our woes. if there were a dictionary dedicated to all the variations and subtle nuances of love, perhaps i would not feel so conflicted when i look at you.

you, sprawled out on your bed as dawn comes in under the blinds and i allow time to pass before interrupting your sleep. we are not rare. we exist in the category of everyday things; lovers driving slowly on a Saturday afternoon, or two people holding on to each other in place filled with other human beings. these things happen in high frequency, but it is in these moments, halfway between your start point and your destination in that car on that Saturday afternoon, when you look over and realize that you feel love for the person sitting next to you. because the beautiful things in our life are not always rare or extraordinary. sometimes it is the quiet seconds before dawn when everyone else is dreaming and you feel as if time has stopped momentarily. the moments that pass quietly and unnoticed are what you will remember most as you age and begin to collect memories like dead flowers pressed between the pages of a book. there will be no fireworks or music swelling in the background. love, as defined by every romance film in the past decade, is not going to occur; and that is okay. i will wake you up and bug you to go out together in search of something to eat. breakfast will be ordinary. despite what society says, what he/she says, what the black and white printed definition in any dictionary says, in this fleeting, beautiful, simple, quiet moment, i know what i feel for you.

you make me want to pull my hair out and then piece them back one-by-one. it has been three years. three years of bickering, crying, and loving. it has been a ridiculous roller coaster but every moment i spend with you is perfect.

how neat!

i came across the artist dalton ghetti in tumblr recently and was in awe by the precision of his crafting/sculpting of the tiniest details. 

his works is extraordinary! check out how he started and how it became an art passion. very cool indeed.

every now and then

you...

you have no idea. no idea of what i feel about you.

of how much i care about you. of how much i think you are amazing and beautiful. of what i think we could become, together. of how much you make me happy and sad at the same time.

of how much you make  me feel so alive. of the butterfly riot that takes place in my stomach and the heart that flutters when you talk to me. of how much you make me worry and scared.

you have absofuckinglutely no idea.

at all...

welcome to my thoughts.

happiness. 

it is something that visits me quite often, but doesnt stay for long. there’s always something that ends the smiles and the laughter. i really wish negative thoughts couldnt trespass into my mind, but unfortunately, they do. all the time. worst of all, i cannot control them. they slip into my mind and stay there. they wait for me to deal with them. 

i want to focus on the bright things in life, but i cannot. that is the problem with me. i always need to fix every single issue in my life before i can be happy. sometimes that takes a really long time, which causes me to be temporarily upset. 

i know the right thing to do is to not worry, and just be happy. it is not as easy as it sounds though. everything gets to me. everything. i really wish i can be someone who didnt have a care in the world. im not that person though, and i dont think i ever will be.

electric feel

these are some of my current fashion obsession. something i will definitely grab from of the sales racks of retail shops. well, yea, if it is within reach. (: say hello to a very self-conscious lady right here right now. i am just training not to be a frumpy old lady in the future. *fingers crossed*

knots

you couldnt erase the past. you couldnt even change it. but somehow sometimes life offers you the opportunity to put it right. // ann brashares.

these knots i feel in my mind, is dying to just leave everything that strains me from i-dont-even-know-where-and-why and just go anywhere these feet can take me. fly me off these coasts, train me in walking boots that walks all day and night, hit me where the pain heals itself, and tell me that i have better day - every day. 

it helps, to have supportive partner. but supportive doesnt always mean understanding and encouraging. 

it all falls back to myself, being me, and becoming what i can be...

totally different

...being at the cemetery now isnt just to see grandfather - a person i have only heard of but not seen, ever. it is going to be a trip i have to get used to, in times to come in the long run to see my very own father - that i wont ever see again in person.


it is hard to know you are never going to see someone again. when someone you love passed, it leaves a sense of emptiness. you question why you could not have more time with them, you daydream about them when you picture your future, and waves of grief hit you when there is no clear answer and your dreams disseminate. you wake up to the realization that those last moments really were just that- your last. but, i believe in something more. i have a spiritual belief that not only are your loved ones a part of you - as they have left imprints of themselves on you - but that, someday, you will meet again.

get drunk

one should always be drunk. that is the great thing; the only question. not to feel the horrible burden of time weighing on your shoulders and bowing you to earth, you should be drunk without respite.

drunk with what? with wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you please. but get drunk.

and if sometimes you should happen to awake, on the stairs of a palace, on the green grass of a ditch, in the dreary solitude of your own room, and find that your drunkenness is ebbing or has vanished, ask the wind and wave, ask star, bird, or clock, ask everything that flies, everything that moans, everything that flows, everything that sings, everything that speaks, ask them the time; and the wave, the wind, the star, the bird and the clock will all reply : it is time to get drunk! if you are not to be the martyred slave of time, be perperually drunk! with wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you please.

i wish i am always drunk, with the beauty in life, soak up all the love-hate around me, and just be. im tired of playing guessing games what if, or will this be, or what next. i just want to be happy. but being happy should be simple and not having a wide open heart that allows for hurt and fear and anger. to justify my inability to be fully happy, i have it all. 

that is why.

entirely different

"LIFE CAN ONLY BE UNDERSTOOD BACKWARDS; BUT IT MUST BE LIVED FORWARDS."

-   Soren Kierkegaard

it has been said that time heals all wounds. i do not agree. the wounds remain. in time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue, and the pain lessens, but it is never gone.


never.

unhappy

you are just too different. it makes me so very unhappy sometimes to know the fact that i can hardly be happy for long. i admit that i am truly fickle minded, but i cannot contain any longer these anger&frustration that i have always been suppressing, in more ways that i have known to.

she yells (inside or verbally) because she cares.

she cries because she is frustrated.

she smiles out of no where because she is thinking of you, even when you are already there.

she scrunches her face because she is about to explode.

she stares at you because she is infatuated.

she calls you up because she misses you and wants to hear your voice.

she talks to you because she is your other half, not mom.

she kisses you because she wants to.

she asks you questions because she is curious, not to be annoying.

she wants to know where you are to be with you.

she walks beside you to be able to hold your hand.

she sits close to you to be near to you body&soul.

she stand in front of you to see your face and hug you.

and so much more.

truth is, this girl loves you. so so so much.

imissyou

it is funny how people say they miss you, but dont even make an effort to see you personally. 


every day, i walk past people - my mother, colleagues, bosses, the janitors, people next door, people sipping coffee at the coffeeshop. i drive past homes, buildings - corporate ones, private ones or public. i wave hello and goodbye. i sigh relief and disappointment. i breathe in pleasant and unpleasant. i put on a face i make believe is myself, truly. i close my eyes and feel so many things at once. every day. but not once that i actually understand those behavior. 


even now, i do not know exactly what i wanted to accomplish or to write about in this very blog. people say there is a reason for everything, but i know having this blog is definitely not for fame or recognition. i have not figured out the exact genre or direction of writing in here, but it is neither personal nor general. it has none of the categories most people raved about. it has not been a medium for any extraordinary raves from my side of the world, either. just words, only written statements that my mind has made up with a little discussion with the heart.


...and the heart agrees to most of it.

vintage love

dear you,

i know that i have not been behaving at my best these past few months, and i know that it has not been the time that we are most fond of. i have not been living in denial, as i thought denial is only something a non-existent person would do. i believe, yes, i believe in that. i believe in facing the truth, going head to head with problem so that it could end or begin then and there. 

well, things have not been smooth for all time. there has been hiccups, things that has been skipped, moments that has been lost or found again. but when i see you, the world stops. it stops, and all that exists for me is you and my eyes staring at you. there is nothing else, literally. no noise, no other people, no thoughts or worries, no yesterday, no tomorrow. the world just stops, and it is a beautiful place, and there is only you.

i need to remember. remember, that this is now, and now, and now.
i will need to live it, feel it, cling to it.
i want to become acutely aware of all that i have taken for granted.

sincerely,
me.

pushing my luck

you cannot, and im serious, you cannot be ashamed of who you are, no matter how much shit you get for it - my father used to tell me. God gave you all that you have, all that you are for you to be yourself. and you should be proud, because you are beautiful just the way you are, nothing more and nothing less. because i used to glance at any mirror or mirror-like things and then fix my hair or check my clothes and tidy my appearance - lets just say i took a long time just to be ready for an outing, i bet a lot of us girls would be too. but he always tells me, my girl looks pretty already, it is not so proper to look into the mirror too much. i did, ignore him most of the time, but his comments and advice remains in my heart at all times. especially when he tells me to sleep earlier, pointing out on surfacing acne i had at times. yes, he cares for our skin and well being all the time, he is that involved in my life. i always have my own words and reasons to retort most of his comments in things that i do and do not. well, those were the days when there were too much words and now i had none.

i probably need to relax more. people say, there is no competition, really. only with yourself, to better and to improve. 

that's all.

i should probably agree with him about this. perhaps, to go without artificial things in life for as long as i can. starting with less vanity.

random post on a random tuesday

attached herewith an article i found to be very interesting. something that describes a girl - not another model, in a meaningful way.

date a girl who reads by rosemarie urquico

(in response to charles warnke’s You Should Date an Illiterate Girl) 

" Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes. "

ps // now, dont you think that was just lovely? you dont have to actually date one. have a friend who actually reads, or writes. 

xoxo

dirty little secret

i will have music instrument doors in my house in the future. i have set my mind, that if i am able to, my house would be psychedelic and eclectic, with all class and elegance in one. if i am able to...

i want it to be that way. 

it has to be.

my life, all drawn out inside my head. even things i am wanting to do to my family members day after day. to my partner to go through every single day without boredom ever in the dictionary of ever. to my beloved pet dogs. to the house.

back to the house. everything HAS to start with the house. 

or else...

or else it would have not happen at all.

that would definitely be sad. so sad i could break down and cry right here right now. okay, no drama, but yes. i could break down and cry. 

my mind is always full of dirty secrets i could not wait to do and make them all happen in the most beautiful ways.

secrets, safe with me.

this pain

this song. current replays.

just not coherent at all, with the title.

ugh.

play the song, though. very calming, and yet, very disturbing. feelings is just too messed up right now.

quiet

put yourself in my place for just one day. watch all the colors in your spectrum fade grrey. more aware than ever that i might never be as calm again. and it shakes every fucking bone in this body, trying to do the right thing on my own.


you dont just become a part of me just by being. you have to be there at my worst, and see me at my best, and undeniably all that is in between. i guess you just dont understand the term that enable people to communicate and to become an item of adoration that melts into love and love alone.


i believe, that there is goodness in you. a lot, not just a little bit. then again, with you utilizing your good sides for all the bullshit you are showing to everybody i am hoping you could at least wonder why - on your part.


sigh. my dear...

unresolved heart-calls

i am not angry at you. i was never angry at you.

i am angry at myself. 

i am angry i went against my better judgement and opened my heart to people who would not understand.

ohh, father.

hmm.


a phone call and some colleagues' comments on the caller reminded me on how you always hang up my calls even before i finished my sentence or before my goodbye reaches you on the other end. i would always call back and pester you, or argue with you about why you did what you did or say what you say, or just to repeat my goodbye that was unfinished. good times. 


i used to love to annoy you on every possible thing, but i guess you annoyed me more at times. 


like the phone calls.

sometimes

you know that feeling? that feeling when you just want the right things to fall into the right places not only because it is right. but because it will mean that such a thing is still possible? i want to believe that.

sometimes i feel as though the only thing i can do to wash away this empty space inside of me would be to empty it out even more, empty everything inside myself, slowly, carefully, methodically, and leave it on the curb of my driveway for somebody else to pick up. and once im nothing more than a shell, my heartbeat echoing against my hollowed out chest and vibrating against my fragile ribs, will i be able to find what i have been searching for, although i truly dont know what that is yet. when, like me, you have spent years searching for something in the world, something unknown, something magical and all you can do to come close to finding that unknown wonder is search in books, paintings, words, and hope that the secret you have been hoping to find will somehow find you.  

the longest weekend

i would never thought of myself saying this, or feeling anything less than happy to have a long weekend. but this time, is the exception. i wished i have things to look forward to, things that brings back my ever-present father. he was always there, in everything i do. at home, in the phone, everywhere. everything i do, i see, i hear reminds me of his being. he always asks too much, out of pure concern. he never left anything unsolved in work or in the family, except for a few childhood promises he made just to shut me up from asking for more. i dont mind about all that now. in fact, i dont mind about any of it - at all. all i cared about is for him to give me a hint about anything, anything at all. his repetitive advice. his loving-but-at-the-same-time-annoying-threatening calls to come here, even when we were few steps/seats next to him. his firm reassurance. i miss.

now, it is the feeling of nostalgia. it is the feeling that follows; that bottomless desperation of never getting him back, never being the same. that feeling of memories fading away. it is those moments in life we take for granted that count. the ones that fall away too quickly. the ones that leave us in the dark, grasping for that last redeeming thread of hope.


these anguish, these unsaid unnamed unfinished business and feeling, i could not feel and could have no control of. 


i cannot.

my valentine experience

the night of valentine's day...

i would never have seen this coming, not in a million years, that anything short of a good thing would happen to the man i loved the longest and the most. this very man that i have known ALL my life, being at the emergency room is one experience i would never ever understand - until the night of February fourteenth twenty twelve. 

nobody said anything. my mom and i thought it must have been something he ate that triggered an unfavorable response from his body which resulted in difficulties in breathing. my very own father is in that freaking suffocating room filled with tubes and medicine and equipment. we remained calm, suppressed all our worries and hoped for the best. mom even started little every day conversations with Uncle Chris, my father's close friend, while waiting for whatever that is going on inside that room with blood red indication light. while holding on tight to the arms of the other closest person i have at that very moment, i waited, impatiently. but i could not do anything else, other than to wait. 

in that mere two hours, doctors&patients came in&out of that emergency room countless times. and my father have yet to be seen walking out. then one of the doctors whom my father was taken care by, came out to inform us the status of his treatment - of him. through his calm but sort of sorry face, telling us that they are trying to save him. for three times, three times he came outside, telling us that his situation only worsen with time and treatment. on the third time, he just told us there is nothing they could do. there goes my lifelong support, our lifelong support, mortal and everything went blur. valentine's day has passed, and so did he.

i could not, no words would be able to describe how i feel when he blurted out that sentence. no words could ever describe how i felt when we were allowed to see him, lying lifeless right there. my heart&head almost gave away then&there, if it was not for people i have got left. i think my whole world just fell apart and i could blame everything and anything in my sight. i would have given up anything at all to have everything reversed all over again. i would have...

my father. fifteenth February twenty twelve. in loving memory.

in memory of a brother.

rest in peace, Chrisvirgil.

my childhood memory with awi, of you will always be in my heart. 

sending you off at the funeral mass today was a heartbreaking occasion. but being a catholic, we all know that it is not the end of the road. keep being the wonderful person that you are and may you have the blessing from above to shine upon your loved ones.

amen.

a certain romance

...dies. resurrection isnt so much of an option when things are complicatedly expired.


it always seem ridiculous to me, that people want to be around someone only and only because they are good-looking. it is like picking your breakfast cereal based on color instead of taste. 


it is all about perception.


surrounding myself with people who have good sense of humor never fails to make me smile, especially when im not really the type of person who is the center of the crowd. i really appreciate typical conversations between two people, but regular gathering of interesting people who can spark up a conversation and keeps me entertained is rather enjoyable. even more so, nowadays, when it is rather hard to find genuine friends of the same wavelength. i am truly glad i have people who stick up for me, and whom i stick up to, at all times. (you would know who you are xoxo) people like these, they will know when to stop and to be serious when needed. i think the true meaning of being comfortable with someone is when they make fun of you and you have no feelings to be hurt. in other words, they would justify the limit to which a heartache means a heartache to them as well. that is a very thin border, not many knows. 


live. love. laugh.

heartache

this pain is inexplainable. i believe there aren't so much i couldn't bear, after going through the past year. it seems like there is nothing else that could break me. but you seem to do it with ease.

now i think i can go through anything.

i dont know how and why, but i want to just leave it all behind.

happy. reversed!

most pathetic bunch ever, apart from being kind at times - nothing, and i repeat nothing, is worth mentioning. and the dumbest taxi driver in history right now goes to this very person - am sorry but i dont even think he passed his driver's test to start with! the worst EVER burger king meal i have everrr had is at genting highlands, and heck i even hate kl on a whole now. nowhere is nice anymore. people are gross, places are uhmm, etc.

a short summary of my trip with colleagues.

i guess it wasnt the right time, place, and emotions - when i went.

everything was out of the way. everything.

dear monday,

im sorry im not doing this face to face. but i guess that is one of the problems. i just cant face you anymore. it is not you. it is just me. we just want different things. the whole time i am with you i am thinking about friday. i dont really know what else to say. i just cant do this anymore.

sorry.

see you around, maybe.

xoxo

butterflies and skipping heartbeats

my favorite of all favorite designer dress collection is most definitely Elie Saab's 2011 Fall collection, inspired by skyscrapers. Reminds me of icey queens, fairytale-like kind of characters. im sure the models who parades in them, or anybody who owns any one of those dresses would feel like a princess! being in good shape and all would obviously be a plus to owning them.

i  guess sometimes there are better alternatives then to always look into pricier items. there are a lot of other affordable picks which we could be fabulous in. so yea, im always, always going to be on the lookout of pretty stuff, to look good in. well, who doesnt, when you are spending eight hours a day (minimum) at work, and not feel great? yea, like that is where most of your time goes to - work, and looking nicer shouldnt be like work too. it should be a must. 

have a nice day everybody. i guess there should be something better to say when i blog again next time. xoxo