She said look at me
So i looked but did not see
Her face was veiled with shadows
While the sun struck her back.
She asked me if she is beautiful
Asking if she’s even fun
I nodded not seeing
Blinded by the rays of the sun.
In This Circus Called Life
Life can either make you or break you. That much we know. How you end up depends on how much pounding you took and how that pounding affected you. I have seen the strongest of man cower by merely the thoughts of storms and seen the weakest of them come out of the storm bruised, battered but stronger.
How old am I? Not old, but absolutely im not getting any younger. The heydays are several humps behind. I know there will be sporadic parties ahead but you won’t see me head banging anytime soon. in truth, Age doesn’t really mellow you down, maturity does. I’ve had my fair share of bruising and battering. Did i come out stronger? The truth is; I don’t know. I sure hope I did, or at least I will.
The thing about life is that ; the bruising and battering comes and go. Depending on the circumstances. The choices me make and the life we led creates a potent recipe of pounding and battering if you are not really careful or you really care less. The pounding comes in different strengths, this does not depend solely on how strong the hands that wields the hammer, it also depends on how soft you are when you are pounded. Like storms that comes in different strengths, we come out at the eye of the storm with different lesson learned.
The real journey begins after the storms. when you begin to take the initial steps. when you begin to pick up the pieces. little steps, piece by smaller piece. smirk, just a little smirk each day. strength comes with moving. Keep on moving until the steps becomes a journey, until the pieces becomes whole, until the smirk becomes a smile, until the smile becomes laughter, until laughter becomes life.
But until then…we keep moving.
Doldrums
chest heaving,
time ticking
nerves pounding,
heart drumming,
on and on ond on
there’s life
after a storm
it creeps and its drawn
but we can move
on and on and on
there is no turn in this bend
just a streched of a long dirt road
unlit when darkness descends
unforgiving when coldness holds
the sad song plays
and beat skips slow
the strings play along
and the notes dragged
on and on and on
there is no turn in this bend
just a streched of a long dirt road
an eternal stretch without and end
and my back burdened with the load
keep pushin on
on and on and on…
keep digging on
till all the pain is gone
Reflection on Trust and Doubt
When you find your trust has been broken by people you cared for would you ever trust them again? It took me sometime to finally put this in to words for I was never one who could model for trustworthiness. So here it is: my reflection on Trust and doubts.
Trusting again is never easy. Once trust has been broken within a relationship, it becomes a choice between trying again or let it all go. The years you’ve spent together sometimes doesn’t necessarily bring you closer, sometimes the years you’ve spent together make things too ordinary, familiar and sometimes familiarity coupled with routine and ordinary breeds boredom. It is often when boredom strikes that trusts are broken.
The question is: Will you choose to try again? And are you sure you want to try again? I have seen relationships torn by stories of betrayal and hampered by distrust. They tried going back together but trust once broken becomes a choice. There is no such thing as mending when it comes to trust. Trust is like a glass, once broken, mending it will not make it whole again. Trust becomes disposable once broken because a repaired trust would show crack and crack means it is fragile and it is just a matter of time before it breaks apart again.
Trust is different between the weak and the strong people. The weaker ones would attempt to repair, the strong hearted people can discard old broken trust and replace it with a new one. Easier said than done but it is the only way to go. I heard people say it is never easy to bring back my trust once broken. That is correct; it is not easy so why try bringing it back. Try to trust anew. Fully.
Half trust is never a solution to anything in a relationship. It is either you trust or do not trust at all, there is no halfway, no half-baked attempts, no gray area. Trust is something that you give fully, not cracked or mended. Half trust means half doubt. Doubt is a parasite. A sliver of doubt could make every effort crumble down. No matter what you do doubt consumes absolutely once you give in to it. So it’s either you trust fully or let go. All your efforts will be in vain once mixed with distrust. All things that your partner does will be taken with distrust even the most innocent ones and that could be very stressful for you both. It will destroy the stuff you began to rebuild and you will find yourself with nothing to go on, only hate. And hate goes nowhere.
So trust or let go. Those are your two choices. If you choose to hold on let go of your doubt. Start fresh, take a leap of faith that you have both learned from your mistakes and this time you will both get it right.
Equinox
Wandering feet goes far
A wandering heart goes farther
When sole travels in distance beyond trails and harbors
The soul travels through life not gardens and arbors
What lies beyond the mist that thy eyes cannot see?
What’s with the unknown and unseen that beckons thyself to thee?
Was it an adventure worthy of your childhood dreams?
Or just a romanticized folly of a one man’s whim?
The steps taken that brought you smile and wants
Are the same steps that bore angst and grunts
Now you stop moving as the tide ebbed and sways
Hereto we conclude who goes and who stays
Some steps cannot be retraced as they usually do,
So I’ll plow ahead, painfully, haltingly pushin’ through
Travel in arches and curves and rings and circles
Till I find myself again, right next to you.
How A Tulip Came To Be
Drip drop like drizzle on the window pane
Clear puddles forming, gentle, silent, sane
Drowning little marks of age left on the glass
Prints vanishing ever slowly along with its bitter past
As the tributary makes its way to the darkened ground
Parched ground moisting, and breathes and bursts
Flowing through wounds that healing latterly found
Once devoid of certitude now hopeful with trusts
How time have forsaken this seed so small
Taken for granted, discarded and remembered not at all
Now embraced by moisture, the seed loses all fear
Touched by love and it begun to stir
Maybe the seed that was once bashful is now opening to life
Maybe a small drizzle opened its colorful petals to thee
Maybe love has erased her pain and hurt and strife
Maybe this is how a tulip came to be.
Ortigas Center, Pasig City, 04/24/16 3:42 AM
Autumn Of Our Lives
I could think of so many excuses why I refuse to grow old. And why not, it seems only yesterday when we were in college. Prime of our lives, people calls it; back when we were fun and cares less if the air-conditioning system is blowing a winter right into our young faces. How long has it been? Six years? Seven? a decade? I lost track. Honestly I stopped counting four years ago or was it five? Maybe six, Honestly, I lost track of that too.
Several days ago I learned that a close friend of mine in college have fallen ill. My immediate reaction was to ask myself: are we that old? Or, is this thing called life finally found a way to catch up on us?
College was the glory days, when we were leaner and we never check ourselves for love handles. When we party like there is no tomorrow, when we were bulletproof and so cocksure about our steps and find music in our own laughter. Old those days are behind us now. We have gained several pounds and little heavy in the middle.
We have lost contact with most of our college friends. The roads of life lead to different destination and we face them all separately. We got tested by people and time and circumstances and life. We fought different battles and waged our own wars and found hate even amongst our friends and love in most unlikely places. And when we found ourselves adrift aimlessly in uncertainty we learned that family will always be home. Looking back now I realize how far apart we are from our college selves. We have drifted so far apart indeed.
We never thought of sickness back then. Back then we were immortals. But that was a young man’s folly. I begin to feel my Achilles tendinitis now, more often than before. Begin dropping into gyms every now and then because I worry about my blood pressure.
How time flies, but then again, time is expected to fly. Right now is just temporary, the present will be tomorrows past. Gone were the days of come-what-mays but who ever said that our best days are behind us? There are always two ways to look at things; with a smile or with regrets. I choose to smile at my regrets and choose to believe that the bast days are still ahead. I could find so many excuses why I refuse to grow old, but why should I do that, I am having so much fun getting old each day. (11/06/13 6:42 PM, Ortigas Ctr, Pasig City).
The Truth About The Mayan Calendar
Noong isang gabi walang magawa ang mga kumag sa opisina kung hindi mag usap usap about sa new year na paparating. Kung totoo daw bang magwawakas na ang mundo nitong 2012. Gusto kong matawa, eh bakit ba naman hindi, eh anak ng tinapa, taon taon na lang yata mula noong year 1999 ay naririnig kong end of the world na daw pagsapit ng new year, eto nanaman ngayon.
Ang contention naman ng mga doomsday preachers sa grupo ngayon ay na predict na daw ni Nostradamus ang pagtatapos ng mundo ngayon at sinamahan pa daw ng patotoo ng Mayan Calendar, Naghanap pa ng damay ang mga anak ng tipaklong. Kinailangan pa nila ng hard eveidence para papaniwalain kami na magtatapos na nga ang mundo. Ako naman sa dami ng pinagkakautangan kong tao parang gusto ko nang sakyan ang mga death wish ng mga hindoropot dito sa opisina. parang winiwish ko na din na “sana nga Lord matuloy na this time”. Easy way out, front row seat to the end of the world and drama kumbaga. bwiset.
Hindi ko talaga lubos maisip kung bakit paniwalang paniwala ang mga mokong dito sa opisina sa Mayan Calendar na yan. Hindi ba nila alam ang totoong kwento ng Mayan Calendar na yan. Sa mga hindi nakakaalam, Pabayaan nyong Ikwento ko sa inyo ang katotohanan tungkol sa Mayan Calendar. Ganito yun..
Noong ika limang siglo sa lupang kilala natin ngayon sa pangalang Columbia, may isang kahariaan na tahanan ng mga taong nakabahag na pinamumunuan ng isang haring nakabahag din. Ang tawag sa grupo ng taong ito ay Maya.
Masayahing tao ang mga Maya, kung hindi sila nanunugod ng village ng ibang tribu, and past time nila ay mamugot ng ulo ng mga nabihag na kaaway bilang past time.
Isang araw bago mag bagong taon ipinatawag ng haring nakabahag ang dalawa sa pinakamagaling na eskultor ng tribu. pagdating ng eskultor sa Palasyo ng hari, nagtaka ang mga eskultor kung bakit sila pinatawag ng hari kaya tinanong nila ito
Eskultor 1: Mahal na hari bakit niyo po kami pinatawag?
Hari: May ipapagawa ako sa inyo.
Eskultor 2: Ano po ang maipaglilingkod namin
Hari: Nakikita ninyo yung bilog na batong iyon? (sabay turo sa batong nasa gilid ng palasyo) nais kong gawan ninyo ako ng Tzolk’in gamit ang batong iyon.
Hindi naintindihan ng dalawang eskultor ang nais ipagawa ng hari sapagkat bago sa pandinig nila ang salitang tzolk’in. Ang tzolk’in ay isang coined word o pagsasama ng dalang salita, parang ang salitang ‘spork’ na ang ibig sabihin ay spoon and fork, or ‘taglish’ na pinagsamang Tagalo at english, o ang salitang ‘De kemerloo de eklavoo ‘ng mga bakla na hindi ko din naiintindihan. Anyway, balik sa kwento,
Eskultor 1: ano po ba ang ibig sabihin ng tzolk’in?
Hari: Count of Days
Eskultor 2: Ang alin ho?
Hari: ang Tzolk’in
Eskultor 1: Ano nga ho yun?
Hari: Taena, ibig sabihin nun kalendaryo mga ugok.
Eskultor 2: ah kalendaryo lang pala pinahirap niyo pa. Yun lang ang kailangang sabihin, kalendaryo, pa-tzolk’in tzolk’in pa eh.
Imumpisahan ng dalawang eskultor and pag-gawa ng kalendaryo. isang oras bago sumapit ang bagong taon natapos nila ang kalendaryo. kaagad nila itong dinala sa hari.
Hari: Bakit hanggang December 2012 lang ang petso dito sa tzolk’in na ito, tanong niya.
Eskultor 1: Mahal na hari, maliit lang ang binigay ninyong bato. hindi ho kasya hanggang 2013.
Hari: Ganoon ba? Maraming mapaparanoid dito sa kalendaryong ito pagdating ng araw.
Eskultor 2: Problema na nila yun mahal na hari. anong magagawa natin eh sadyang maliit lang talaga yung bato.
Hari: Kung sabagay. hala, di bale, ilagay niya na lang sa gilid yang tzolk’in na yan, inuman na lang tayo.
Yan po ang tunay na istorya ng Mayan calendar. Sana maibsan nito ang inyong pag aalala, yung mga kaopisina ko eh tila wala nang pag asang maliwanagan.
Happy New Year
Kataxilan
May allergy ako sa salitang tax. Pagnakikita ko ang salitang ito sa aking sa dyaryo or sa tv at lalong lalo na sa aking payslip parang di ako makahinga, naninikip ang dibdib na para bang pinipiga unti-unti ang kaluluwa palabas sa aking magandang katawan. (Emphasis on Magandang Katawan) Libre po ang mangarap, at habang walang patong na tax ang pangangarap, nilulubos lubos ko na.
Kanina napabalita na itatax na daw ang government contributions katulad ng SSS, anak ng bibeng duling, muli akong inatake ng aking allergy. Biglang nangati ang aking lalamunan na para bang gustong sumigaw, biglang nanakit ang aking mata na parang naluluha. Tax nanaman, lahat na yata ng bagay ay tinatax ng mga taga BIR ngayon. Kulang na lang pati yung kakarampot na kita ng mga nangangalakal ng basura ay bubuwisan pa nila.
Gusto kong linawin na walang mali sa pagbubuwis, obligasyon yun ng kahit sinong mamamayan para tulungang umangat ang ekonomiya ng bansa, at para pondohan ang mga proyektong pang imprastraktura na kailangan ng bayan ( nalulunod ako sa aking tagalog, dinudugo ako) ang siste lang eh sa kaninong bulsa ba aabot ang buwis ko?
Ang pagbubuwis ba sa lahat ng kinikita at ipon ng taumbayan ang solusyon sa problemang pinansyal ng bansa o ang korapsyon sa gobyerno. Ang BIR na nagpapaukala ng bagong buwis ngayon ang isa sa pinaka korap na ahensya ng gobyerno. Ang dapat po sigurong gawin ay linisin muna nila ang kanilang bakuran bago magisip ng panibagong pasanin para sa taumbayan. Or kung di pwedeng tigilan ang korapsyon eh baka pwedeng Itax na din ang mga kinukurakot ng mga mapagsamantala, mas malaking tax ang katumbas niyan kasi malakihan din naman ang ninanakaw ng mga yan eh. Ang akin as suggestion lang. Kung ayaw, okay lang naman.
Imaginariums
Nagising ako ng ala una ng umaga. ang ingay ng pusa ng kapitbahay namin, naglalampungan ang mga hinayupak. Siguro talagang wala sa bokabularyo ng mga pusa ang salitang “discreet” o talaga lang mahilig magpasikat ang mga hinayupak at nang -iinggit lang talaga. Oo alam kong wala akong sex for a long time pero di ko kailangan ang iba para ipamukha sa akin yun, much less, pusa! Ang ingay, pinilit kong hagilapin yung airsoft riffle ko sa dilim. Sa isip isip ko, maistorbo ko lang tong mga to at mabitin silang pareho amanos na kami.
Pagkahanap ko ng riffle pumuwesto ako sa bintana pero sa kasamaang palad, hindi ko makita kung nasaan ang mga hinayupak, siguro dahil sa madilim or siguro mali ako, alam din siguro nila ang salitang “discreet”. paksyet! Bumalik ako sa higaan na masama ang loob, di ako makabawi, di na din ako makatulog. paksyet talaga.
Naglalaro ang isip ko. Ang di ko mawari ay kung bakit sa lahat ng pwedeng isipin, naiisip kong Happy place ang imaginarium ni Vincent Van Gogh at Nakakamangha ang imaginarium ni Guillermo del Toro. wierd. nababaliw na yata ako.
So bumangon ako para manood ng TV, nanood ako ng documentary about EDSA 25 years after the people power. Naisip ko, aantukin ako sigurado nito, medyo boring ang narration ng dokyu. Ang daming mukha ng edsa ngayon, naisip ko tuloy yung kunduktor ng bus nung isang araw na nagtatawag ng pasahero habang nakatayo ako sa crossing, Panay ang sigaw niya ng ” Buni, Guadalopi, Ayala, Buni, Guadalopi, Ayala” Sa isip isip ko, “Buni? di ba makati yun?”
Hininaan ko ang volume ng TV, wala na yung mga pusang umaatungal. Pinatay ko ang TV, bumalik ako sa kama. Humiga at pumikit, mayamaya parang may naghahabulan sa bubong ng kapit-bahay, maya maya ay katahimikan sinundan ng atungal ng pusa na parang baby na umiiyak. Round 2 na nila. Paksyet talaga.
Buhay nga naman!
YELO'S WORLD 
