Posts Tagged With: thoughts

Damn You

Thousands of footsteps

Brought me somewhere

Today when my mind

Seemed deeply sunk into

The depth of a million

Contrasted, unfathomable

Thoughts that strongly

Persistently led me home

Tonight when my heart

Went trapped in an endless

Tinted flow of unfading hues

Embarked in shadows

Tarnished by your remarkably

Irresistible existence

Damn you

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Shall We

I could think about each questions

Lingering my head about stars

And the sky and the whirling winds

While waters splash and grounds

Starts to crack like the bubble

That shifts my mood from rusty

Colors of iron-ic bars behind

The chosen flow of thoughts

You’d not hear but had listened

To such sounds of palpitating

Beats of timeless what if’s just

Then I found out that the critique

Inside of me no longer lives

When what I’ve once thought

As numbness has been paralyzed

Dreadful, I said seemingly confused

With the utterance of indefinite words

Left undefined playing a role

Of stuck dilemma in spaces between

Inches of troubled cases we resolve

Together yet never admitted there

Is a deeper mystery

Here goes an even deeper mystery

No matter how terrible we’d see

Just ask me if you could

Shall we

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Of all

Thoughts that may not be heard

Behind the words spoken out loud

Are like the flashing lights you see

From the stars at night like dreams

And colors of an insanely written

Paths of both our great perhaps

That I avoid to start wondering

What could have been when they

Cross the zone that hit the weakest

Point which was once the strongest

Of all

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Why shall we make things


If complications

Make them wonderful


Reasons that I am

Not interested

To find out

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Perhaps Not

Tonight, these days uh whatsoever, I could not contain the uncontrollable flow of noisy blank clouds in my mind. Is it because of my caffeine intake? Perhaps not.

Few minutes shall pass as of the time of typing this nonsensical post… then hurray! Here comes another week to live by. It’s been months since I’ve written down a latest update for my blog. I am just wondering what urged me to put up the next thing on my dashboard. Is it the thought of you that does not want to leave my full-blown poetic nature? Perhaps not.

I used to live a life where I would cherish solitude until you came into the picture. Here’s to a photograph of you that seems to be stuck on the process of developing. Here goes another reason to aim hitting the highest part that it becomes harder for me to catch up. Is it the memory that gets me distracted every time it hits me? Perhaps not.

Maybe I have been looking for something else to put the blame on… because since our paths meet for a reason, I just can’t decide on my own; because we started to tell stories, and to laugh, and to deal with the mess we have; because then I began to lose track of time and I began to worry and I began to speak up. It’s just too ironic that it’s too difficult to have the phrases verbalized. Yeah we could shout stuffs out loud without trying hard for a hint of such stupidity when kidding around. Is it because I’m way too weird for you to understand? Perhaps not.

Keep on ranting. Hell, just rant at this hour! Where are my scholarly articles now? I’ve thrown them into air, floating like how I’ve been kept hanging by the illusion that you are feeling the same way close enough for me to discover that I am not an epitome of a hopeless case gazing through emptiness… A space that I, my sole being, could only occupy. Is it scaring me that someday the truth might slap my face and yell a proof of my non-existent hopes? Perhaps not.

Uncertainty. I never felt so unsure before that doubts inside my head stay as sparks of light in the middle of an irresistible darkness. This is the kind of hell that makes my soul shiver, as I might say. There’s nothing so perfect about the day or the night yet we stay totally fine under pressure. You got no idea and it’s fair because I got no idea either… whether or not you have found this site. Deny. Is it likely to happen that we got to give a damn? Perhaps not.

See, how shitty I write now. See, how disorganized my terminologies are. I choose not to admit ‘cause I wouldn’t swear I’d stand by the unsaid words. It doesn’t take only bravery. It takes one’s life. Numbness is a bittersweet cover of damn’s entirety. After all, is it the end of my unnecessary, often misunderstood, freakiness? I’m sure, IT IS NOT.

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That put you inside

The pressure cooker

Insisting you survive


Who told you so

That you must be perfect

When you barely pass

Those freaking tests


Nobody pushes you

On the verge of death

But yourself

Resistance of judgments


Why won’t you accept

If criticisms are constructive

Don’t you even dare

To escape so frantic


Like now

You’ve been typing

These words in

Five minutes


As the fingers

In your hand

Sway in the air

Bid good bye


Next is steadily


Promising shadows

That you wouldn’t break


Yeah, you couldn’t break

Records of notable

Dilemmas and sparks

You must not break down


Look up

To the sky

And never ever attempt

To close your eyes


From this world

All you have is you

All they have is you

You decide


Whether to sleep

Or stay awake

The reality is out there

Waiting to be lived


Dreams are chances

For you to imagine

The days you weren’t able

To reach out


Now is the time

To start over and stand up

Words spoken are more

Heartfelt when done

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Abundance of Pressure When Altitude is Too High

Tonight, as usual, I’m working on requirements for school (reports, reviews, etc.). Setting aside the household chores, there’s this thing that keeps on bugging me. Every time I ask myself why I keep on trying to comply with all these stuffs without the assurance that I can get back what I really wanted to receive.

Grades. Yes, you read it right. I’m not that typical GC you might dare to call. I’m not too much of a grade conscious student. I don’t actually get depressed with grades that are being given to me; well, not as how anybody out there would rant about their miseries and curse their life to death just because he/she receives grades that he/she didn’t expect. I’m not the type of person who would give up expecting and let go of optimistic hopes for a long period of time. I might get frustrated for a while but that doesn’t make me quit searching for answers, striving for advancements, and looking forward for possibilities that might lead my path.

What’s in my mind right now is not surprisingly a huge ball of thoughts that keeps on spinning round and round… keeps on getting even bigger as time passes by… keeps on inquiring my being: Where am I? Until I come across this quotation He didn’t bring you this far to leave you. That’s probable. The Almighty Creator wouldn’t give me something I can’t handle and I trust Him for that. I trust in Him that each time I feel like putting an end into these hardships, there’s a voice inside of me that insists on telling me I got this. Of all the sacrifices I’ve had, the nights of sleep and days of comfort I’ve surrendered, the family I’ve missed, the friends I’ve separated from, the home I’ve rebuilt, and a lot more reasons which have pushed me to where I am now- constitutes the verity of my existence: proof that I am not going to take no for an answer.

I’ve reached this far, this high, and this vastness not to ditch the chances. I feel alone, incomplete, insufficient, ineffective; but these are just temporary associations from stress that emerging survival has offered me. I am pressured because I tend to always compare the goodness I attained yesterday to how great I am doing today. Thus, exerting more effort is necessary for me to supposedly excel and achieve self-transcendence through the days ahead. I am pressured because I tend to assume that I am good but it’s not enough for me to settle for less. I am pressured because I am supposed to be better than the person I had become.

Pressure that is brought about by the unlimited height of assumptions. Perhaps I can do more. Perhaps I can hurt less. Perhaps I can smile more and frown less. Perhaps I can sustain the endurance of pain. Perhaps I can stay strong and never let go of the things that matter the most.

There could be anything higher than the top. What then? Nothing but the fruits of one’s struggles to surpass himself/herself. Struggles to cope up with the pressure while he/she is at the peak of everything else he/she might ever wonder of… because at the end of the day, nothing else matters. Believe me or not. Nothing else but that grateful feeling that one has surpassed himself/ herself… realizing that circumstances vary and that we simply outgrow ourselves.

Without pressure, I wouldn’t get hard. Hard to beat.

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Womanitely: 10 Wise Ways to Redefine Yourself


Vitality is to be gained not just by a day you feel like being alive. The purpose of your existence is yet to be defined as you search for it, while you aim at those goals that are turned into possibilities. We choose what we become so dare to be happy.

This site so useful to somehow quench some thirst for uncertainty and confusion. Also, it captures the significant thoughts that are simple but are so helpful. The things that are cited do actually make sense for they don’t just state the obvious good thing to do, but also reflect upon the condition of the people who are seeking for a push to get started, to keep going, and to eventually be so madly in love with the situation that they are in.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter how much you get tired of trying. It’s the effort that counts. It’s not the destination that is the greatest of all, but the journey itself.

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A Cradle for Vision Fuels the Tank on Mission

Who told you it would be easy? Nothing’s left in this fast-paced world for you to hold on; but because you believe that there’s something else to hope for, it becomes harder for you to just let go.



What is in my mind right now? A lot of things. A thousand or millions of thoughts that eventually filled up the space of my being, enough to make me feel so full of flattering emotions and uncertain feelings. I couldn’t blame the rainy weather today. I couldn’t blame the suspension of classes. I couldn’t blame the moist air. I couldn’t blame the nostalgic view in the window. I couldn’t blame the deafening silence. I couldn’t find anything to blame for why I am this way.

I don’t think I was born exactly the person that I am today. Perhaps the time, experiences, and people’s influences have been contributing to the kind of human that I have become but I’m definitely not so sure how they changed me. Have I really changed? Here I go again with my philosophical questions, trying so hard to answer the inquiries that I know will never suffice. Questions welcome another questions for answers are just merely objects that are supposed to make me feel safe, unmoved, and at peace for a moment. The truth is, I never felt enough.

How do you see me as an individual in that photo? Your perception might be different as mine but I don’t care, really. What matters is that you actually paid attention to it at some point.

Free, empowered, and brave- these may be enough for me to step into real wild world. I feel like I am capable of surviving. I feel like I can conquer whatever struggle it is that will block my path. Well, at least, I have the feels. Although we all know that a man can be invincible but no man can defy imperfection, I still believe that if one spends his/her own life as the power to fight, this man is definitely immortal. The man can die but the flashes of its dynamism will never falter.

Oh good heavens, where did I find the guts to type these words that can eventually lead its readers to confusion? Because it is only through deep words that I can express the slightest closeness of my true sentiments to what I really meant.

There are times that I actually want to cry things out but no tear comes out of my eyes. It crushes me inside. I dare to smile to distract myself from entertaining insanity. There are times that I actually want to give up my only hopes but my dreams won’t accept my proposal. It brings out the guilt out of me. I dare to continue my plans or reinvent if possible. There are times that I actually want to just shut my brain from thinking but as before I can fully close my mind, there’s this little voice inside my head that disintegrates every single drop of doubt. It wakes me up each time I nearly sink my soul into a nightmare of failures. I dare to get up and fall even more madly even at the most futile ideas which only myself knows can keep me moving. Everything, to me, is paradoxical. What kills me makes me realize that I actually have a life to live, with that burning passion in my heart.

Do you get it, somehow? That a person’s struggles are truly the ones that aid to fulfill one’s goals. If we never had the struggle, wouldn’t you think we’d be able to appreciate the details of triumph and victory? I reflect. Please take note that I am trying if not for myself, then maybe for the ones I love the most.

Now the bottom line is what is so special in this life that I can be able to endure all these mind-boggling, soul-draining, heart-drifting challenges? If you can’t imagine myself saying these lines, try to incorporate them to yourself. What is it that pushes you to go on, amid the doldrums or even amid the monstrous storms? Is it your money, your gadgets, your foods, your books, your accessories, your clothes, your mansion, your car? How hypocrite we are, then.

As for me, what urge me to stay are reasons, I expect, only myself can understand. Will you believe me if I tell you I hold on because of the world itself? Philantrophic, isn’t it? Honestly, I am not the best person to promise things that are purely for the sake of others. I am giving it a try because I guess this is what makes me feel worthy to carry on, to share with you the air we breathe, to share with you the shades of sky, to share with you the rhythm, to share with you the company, to share with you the boundless treasures on earth. I’ll never tell these things to you. Laugh at me, it’s fine; but I’ll really never tell these because I want them done rather than chanted.

A Cradle for Vision Fuels the Tank on Mission is the title of my post mainly because I have a very large home that exists as spot on the universe that I can embrace as a cradle for the fruits of all our sacrifices, and the tank simply symbolizes ourselves. What substance do you want it contains? For me, I want it love. If I hated all of you, then I wouldn’t spare a moment of my existence trying to figure out what it means to be alive- what it takes to live for myself and what it takes to live for the significant creations that inspire me to look at things with wonder.

Could I ever make things happen? I can never fail this, so I must.

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Creeped Out Valentine’s

One of the toughest days I’ve ever had,

So help me God.

Those lines were the only thoughts that I was able to put into concrete terms as posted on my twitter and facebook accounts. Yesterday was full of hassles yet I don’t regret breathing, I don’t forget breathing. I survived anyway and most of all I managed myself. I managed to have my tasks done. I managed to live by the day. I managed to look forward for a rest when the night comes and eventually wake up on a beautiful sunrise. Perhaps it’s just too ideal but I liked it in some way that it could be an aid to keep me going and do better.

So I’m starting to recall what happened on the night of February 13. I was coping up with usual works both in school and in house. Well, I ate lunch and watched Penelope before I went back working. Procrastination is part of the process. I have five classes to deal with the next day, from 7:30 AM to 4:30 PM. In that case, I have to (at least) wake up before the clock strikes at 5 in the morning and take my daily dose of cold showers.

I thought I would be late in my PE classes for the first time because while on my way to school, vehicles were even more jammed. Lucky I was wrong because it’s our professor who came late for the first time. No, it’s not funny. I don’t like to be late either if that happened to me. The class reporters continued their very long discussions that already lasted for two weeks. I knew that we’re having a quiz when they finished. I was not able to prepare for it maybe because the notes as I could see were rigorous texts sticking on thick sheets. Ready or not, quiz started. I just answered the questions with all that I could. After that, I had a brunch in less than ten minutes. A friend chose to stay with me in the caf even if it meant reviewing along the offbeat notes breezing in… oh it’s Valentine’s Day. Some of the people would refer to it as S.A.D. representing Single Awareness Day (Who cares? I’m celebrating it for 17 years, by the way). Next class on Speech Communication coming in. Well, I’m kind of tensed whenever I’m thinking of the idea that I do not have any bloc mate; but since I really like our prof and her teaching styles, I’m kind of enjoying it, too. We had the lectures there and another activities that would keep bothering me as days got to pass by. It’s always like that. Flexibility is a must… versatility at its finest. From time to time, I’d have to update my personal and academic schedule in one.

I headed to JL Bldg. because I needed to have our research paper’s last chapter printed. Overpricing (to what I believe it is… because I used to walk near UC to look for  Piso Print Shops) was expected. Staple wires ran out, never mind. I was touched by a relief that I finished an output of one of the heavy papers we’re asked to write about. Next, I’ve had to stay in the library for an hour to please *note to self that I had to browse my Math lessons for the exam, though I couldn’t feel I’m prioritizing it. What’s the conflict going on between me and CRS during the time of constructing my class schedules? How on earth was I given history and math classes during holy hours? Practically, I couldn’t complain but I should feel grateful instead that I completed my units. I stopped pondering and went to CSS AVR for History class. I guess it’s in a good way that I ignored the urge of going to the comfort room because if not, it could have been too late for me to be informed that the room was moved to a farther building up there. I texted other classmates to tell them. We discussed stuffs and were given a bunch of readings (that’s not new to me anymore though it really costs me all the time). After that was the time to take the exam in Math. ‘Let it be’, I told myself. I found it something that was easy but was hard. Like, what? It’s always the feeling that I thought I knew what I was doing but I could have just been mistaken. Confidence was not always a good thing, you know.

I finished the exam in a few minutes, I think. So I hanged out with friends first. We bought some chocolate flower/ flower chocolate *whatever for ourselves. I felt cold, oh my. Then we went to the mall. When we got inside, we parted ways. Some went to the supermarket and the other went to see her boyfriend. What happened to me? I could finally pee. It’s almost 3 in the afternoon so I had to go back to the campus again. On the hallway, I saw another friend, Tyl complaining that her other friend, Agatha (whom I’ve seen near the gate as I entered) left because of their case study. So we’re currently the buddies. We stayed near CAC AVR wherein below of it is the Dap-ay and the view of the fair (CAC week) could be seen. Minutes passed and prof hadn’t arrived so I decided to put the papers on our green envelope downstairs. A pinch of boredom started to crawl on my nerves probably because of the lack of sleep and of the need for pigging out. Hormones aside, I could sometimes blame my vitamins. We looked among the items that were on sale. Tyl bought two books and when she’s about to put them on her bag, I heard her mention about the readings she just photocopied. She was right when she thought I needed the copies, too. (She had an embarrassing moment I wouldn’t tell.) We went to another building to get the readings I couldn’t describe more than being thick. I fell in line. Stairs seemed to be a long road at that time. After I’ve gotten my copies, we sat on a nearby bench for a while. She had classes to attend at 4:30 so I accompanied her to KA and I eventually went to the mall again.

I was on my way to the book store when I received text messages from Myca telling that she had her classes and those who have free time should already be in Dap-ay for the event preparation. I didn’t immediately respond because I was still wandering despite the fact that the crowd could even give a lot more stress to me. No, I’m not bitter. It’s just that I chose to have a different preference or mode of living on that nothing but an ordinary day. Yes, hearts day is an ordinary day. Although to some people, it’s the moment to show more love to their ‘special someone’. After thirty minutes, I had my phone ready for calls and messages then I went back to the campus. They were already fixing the settings. I put my bag on the chair and tried to help. The Bonfire Poetry Reading started exactly at 6 PM. The place was full of decorations, romantic lighting, grass field, rose petals and flowers, mattress, chairs, equipments, cameras, musical instruments, and ofcourse the bonfire. The event was really inspiring. Rather than feeling the tiredness I am bearing with me, I could feel a soothing essence the whole time… as I sat on the grounds near the bonfire. I could feel the intense performances. I could feel the passion of the performers. I clapped and smiled and laughed and fell in love as I sipped a cup of hot coffee. ‘What a relaxing way to end the day’, I said.

It was really dark when the program ended. I was alone and it’s quite frightening. The night was intimidating. The night reassured me of nothing. I never thought that there would be another tiresome moments. There were a lot of vehicles but none of them was suitable for me to ride on. My feet definitely brought me to a lot of places in Baguio City but I felt like there’s no hope of escaping the situation. I was really tired but I must not entertain this kind of feeling for I should reach home safely. I should be hard enough to contain all the happenings so I could separate myself from harmful elements, in any form. I was convincing myself the whole time that I could endure those hazards all by myself. It’s almost midnight and it’s becoming scarier. I risked to ride on a jeepney than having not to ride on anything at all. Nobody answered my calls. I was trying to forget all the negative possibilities that might occur on that wild night as I was keeping in mind that God is with me no matter what happens. I got out of the jeepney and I had to walk a distance. I was praying while I walked fast. I didn’t care about the curfew anymore. I just wanted to go home so badly. I held my phone. I gripped on my bag so tightly. City lights looked bright yet they were so far. My worries almost faded away but I could see an aggressive dog towards the street I’m heading to. It might chase on me anytime. Nobody would help me if I got bitten. Nobody was there whom I could share my fears with. A taxi came beeping on me (Oh Manong, where have you been?) and I got inside of it. It moved backwards as I pointed to Road 1 Extension. I didn’t care if he would get mad because it’s really for a very short distance. He asked why I was just standing there at the place where he had seen me. I answered him with all the truth that I was afraid of the dog. He was neither sarcastic nor annoyed with what I’ve said. It appeared to be like more of being concerned. Damn, I miss my family. No tears would fall.

The gate was locked. I shook it for chances that it might be opened or they would hear me. Minutes passed that all I could see was an enveloping darkness and I could hear the barking of the dogs. I climbed the very high sharp-edged fences. I might get hurt, I am not sure but that’s the only way I could enter. I threw my phone inside landing on the grasses, then my shoes, then my bag. I stepped on the grills and grabbed the branches of trees. I could be injured anytime or I could be blamed as if acting on a crime. I continued anyway I don’t intend to cause harm to anyone. I jumped. There I went rushing with my phone, shoes, and bag as I knocked to the locked screen door. Ate Shiela came over and opened it for me. She asked me why I came home late and I told her about the school activity. She asked me if I’m alright and I told her not too fine because I’m really tired. I was not able to fix my things anymore or even change my clothes. I was knocked out. I am alive, thanks be to God.

Next morning, I was about to go to the bath room but Ate Shiela came upstairs to ask me if I had seen her mobile phones. I just found out that they were lost since the night of thursday. It was shocking because we’re thinking that it’s impossible that they might be stolen from the ones outside. So the doubts were confined inside our house. I was afraid. Yes, I’m innocent. Yes, I have not done anything that’s wrong. Yes, it’s not my personal problem. But hey, it’s a serious case. Whatever the reason why her phones are lost is a threat to all of us here in this house. It’s either the same thing could happen to us or we could be blamed by the incident or simply because I could really feel that we’re all tensed and confused, especially the sadness that it had been bringing to Ate Shiela.

Valentine’s Day might not be as sweet to me as it did to others, but I was being trained to be more active in participating with what in life are real situations I shall get involved into. I explore a variety of the world’s dimensions and discover more about myself, about other people, and the linkages to our surroundings that form interaction and bind us together as one whole community… as one whole universe. If this is how I can be taught, I accept. I want to learn either the hard way or tactically. I just need my sanity.

Lord, enough for this day. Let us all heal our wounds first before an another bloody battle. Come join us in every struggle that we face, in every problem that we solve, and in every challenge that we continue to fight for.

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