Whose Fault?

HATING WON’T do me any good.

yet I can’t bring myself no to..

^~~~^ ★

Seeing An Airplane Was Once Magical

WHEN I was a child, I’m fond of airplanes. Not airplanes as it is but airplanes in the sky.

Like any other child, seeing an airplane hovering above is magical –atleast that’s what I thought.

I want to see airplanes. Neither did I know, it gives me a different feeling. As a toddler, I’m longing to see airplanes so I waited and waited. Nighttime is much more beautiful. The blinking light that they made, the way it passes by up above the night sky like a shooting star..

It is was magical.. Before long, I realized; airplanes made me sad.

Airplanes made me sad because it gives me hope –a hope that’ll be forever as it is. Those moments– whenever I see an airplane, I will stretch my hand and pointed it. Not yet satisfied with that action, I’ll proudly cry;

there’s an airplane!

as if being the first one to see the airplane is something.

Airplanes made me think of someone. Seeing an airplane gives me the hope of seeing that someone who is special to me. Everytime I see an airplane, I assume that my SS (someone special) is in that plane and in a moment or two, I’ll be able to meet him. I know it’s not possible but for a child, there’s nothing impossible, right?

And it goes on. I can’t help myself from assuming that he is really there in that plane I’m seeing, that he’s just there right above me looking for me on the ground –I’m hoping that I’ll see him, expecting that I’ll have him with me all the time like what I saw in any other toddlers.

Yes this goes on til I grew up –and so does the hurting.

Seeing an airplane is magical.. yet dismal.

^~~~^ ★

And It’s My Fault.. I Know

HIT ME! Talk to me! What’s happening to me?? I get angry with her even if she’s not doing anything wrong. It’s just that I’m guilty! -_-

Punch me! Slap me! I wanna wake up from this state of guiltness. Guilty pleasure it is. Punch me. Slap me. Hit me. Talk to me. Wake me up!

I shouldn’t be rude. I shouldn’t be angry.


The Call

I HEARD my phone ringing. It was at the side of my laptop. I veered my head. I was about to answer it. Unknown caller.. But upon seeing the number… I knew. I knew it was him. I don’t know his number but seeing the first 2 digits lets me know that it was him.

I let it ring. Twice. Thrice. Four times. Five times before answering it. It will be rude of me if I didn’t answer. It would make me bad if I will not answer it.

So I answer it.

Am I that bad if I don’t feel like talking to him?
Am I that bad if I won’t open up to him?
Am I that bad if I won’t tell stories to him?
Am I that bad if I am not that comfortable talking to him?
Am I that bad if I’m a bit irritated?
Am I that bad?

I feel neither hate nor anger. But I feel something bad.. I don’t know what it is. But is it even my fault?


Your Eyes

YOUR EYES told me
how much you love me..

but you
never did tell it to me.


Ano’ng Meron Sa Butas Ng Donut?

ANG BUHAY ay parang donut, may butas sa gitna..

May kulang ba? Bakit kailangan may butas? Ilan lang yan sa mga tanong na marahil naiisip ng ibang tao kagaya ko.

Hindi natin alam kung ano yung palaging kulang, hindi natin alam kung bakit dapat may butas sa gitna. Hindi natin alam yung dahilan..

Pero hindi ba, hindi natin naiisip yung mga bagay na yun? Hindi naman natin sya napapansin? Pero tulad nga ng iba, marahil ay tulad ko din na nais din malaman. Marahil tulad ng iba at tulad ko ay sumagi sa isipan na magtanong o mag isip ng mga ganung bagay.

Donut. Oo, masarap. Kakagatin natin. Kakainin.. Hanggang sa maubos. Donut. Pag kinain na natin saka natin marerealize sa huli na wala palang kulang.

Walang kulang. Na sapat na pala. Kung minsan gusto pa natin, parang nakukulangan. Pero ang di natin alam ay kapag kumain ulit tayo sa pangalwang pagkakataon ay hindi ba, hindi tulad ng satisfaction na naramdaman natin sa unang pagkakataon? Iba pa din ang isa. Iba pa din ang una.

Sapat na ang isa. Dalwahin mo at masarap pa din ngunit bumaba ang kalidad. Tatluhin mo at mas nabusog ngunit sapat lamang sa pandadagdag sa tyan at di na inisip ang sarap o lasa. Apatin mo at sobra na.. Limahin mo at hanggang sa isuka mo na.

Ewan ko kung bakit ko ‘to sinusulat. Hindi ko din alam kung bakit ko ‘to naiisip. Hindi ko rin alam kung sasang-ayon kayo sa akin. Ang tanging alam ko lang ay sa pagkain ng donut.. Ngunit hindi ko rin alam kung bakit ito sumagi sa isipan ko.

Parang buhay ang donut. Ika ko nga nung una, may butas. May kulang? Ngunit pag kinain saka lang mararamdaman na “ay, tama lang pala. ay, masarap pala”

Parang buhay na kapag namuhay lang tayo, may kulang?

Parang buhay na sa kakaisip natin kung ano yung kulang nakakalimutan natin ang ibang bagay na nasa harap na natin.

Parang buhay na sa kakaintindi natin sa mismong buhay, naiwawalang bahala natin ang mga ibang bagay na may tunay na kahulugan sa atin.

Parang buhay na sa kakahanap natin sa kulang ay sya din pagkawala ng paningin natin sa kahalagahan ng kung ano’ng meron tayo.

Parang buhay na akala natin palaging kulang, hindi pala.

Hindi pala. Sapagkat kaya lang naman sya nagkukulang ay dahil na rin sa ating kaisipang “may iba akong kailangan”

Sapagkat kaya lang naman sya nagkukulang ay dahil na rin sa hinaing nating “bakit wala ako nito? bakit wala ako nun?”

Sapagkat kaya lang naman sya kulang ay dahil na rin sa paniniwalang “bakit ba palaging may kulang?”

Bakit hindi nating subukang mamuhay lang at wag intindihan ang kulang.. wag kwestyunin ang buhay..

Huwag na tayong mag aksaya pa ng panahon sa pag intindi sa mismong buhay, mamuhay na lang tayo sa alam nating paraan.

Tara! Iwanan muna ang mga isipin. Donut? (:


It Kind Of Hurts

There’s a Look In Her Eyes

IT KIND of hurts

when all I care is you

It kind of hurts

when all I think is you

It kind of hurts

when all I remember is you.

It kind of hurts

it has been too long

but it seems

it was just yesterday.

It kind of hurts

I thought I’ve forgotten you

I wanted to forgot everything

but here you are invading my mind.

It kind of hurts

it must mean nothing

I must feel nothing

but why does it hurts?

It kind of hurts

I forced myself not to react

I forced my heart not to beat

but I know it’s impossible.

It kind of hurts

I know I know I know

I thought it was long gone

but it was never gone at all.

It kind of hurts

but you didn’t know

and you’re oblivious

that it kind of hurts.

It kind of hurts

for the nth time, I’m saying

for the nth time, I’m feeling

that it kind of hurts.

It kind of hurts

but it only hurts

just because it was YOU.