write right;

Letter to You.

2011-03-20T11:48:00.001+08:00

Dear Lost Friend,

How are you? I hope things are well.

I know we don't talk anymore.

We don't text or talk on the phone anymore.

But I remember a time where we'd talk and share secrets.

Would it be okay if I told you one more secret?

I don't want to write anymore.

Because everytime I write, I'm reminded of you.

I'm reminded of how you use to ask me to read to you.

Lamely recite you poems over the phone.

Whisper you words, weaved from my mind, to your heart.

You watched in awe as I tried to perfect this art.

Type out stories that you would read before you slept.

Hand written letters that I sent to you, and hope you kept.

Paint you stories as if I was vandalizing the walls of your mind with vivid poetry.

If I could only take back those words because they mean nothing now.

Because those words were covered in feelings that were for your eyes only.

I'd be lying if I said that I never felt a damn thing about you.

But I'm at this point in our relationship that I don't want to admit that I felt anything for you.

It makes things easier to move on and walk away from what we had.

I'm not saying it was all bad.

I just don't want to remember the good times we enjoyed together.

I don't want to remember how much effort I put in to get her.

All the laughter and smiles I would capture with my nikon.

The times where we'd just lie on the grass and watch the clouds float by.

Or drive around town, one hand on the wheel, one hand holding your hand.

I don't want to remember your voice, whispering in my ears.

Secretly telling me of the years we might spend in each other's arms.

I don't want to hear you telling me how you've fallen for my charms.

Or how happy you are that you've met a guy like me.

Or how ecstatic you are that I became a part of your life.

Or how I was so perfect for you.

I saw you on the bus the other day.

I started to panic and shy away.

We ended up spending an hour in each other's presence.

Just sitting, and thinking.

Awkwardly glancing at one another.

And quietly smiling when our eyes meet one another.

I should've said hi.

Seeing you so randomly, like how we first met.

Maybe it was a sign.

It made me realize how much I...

Lesbians you.

I wonder if you do too.

I'm trying to repress all this memory.

So I pretend that you're the enemy.

You tricked me with your empty promises of compromise and everlasting patience.

Caught me off guard and brainwashed me with the help of your secret agents.

Also known as your smile and your eyes.

And I would've died if it wasn't for my necklace of resurection.

But then I lost internet connection.

You would've liked that line.

They say that time heals all, is it really true?

I think time just helped me adjust to how things have become.

And forgetting is the only way that moving on is properly done.

I'm hoping I'm wrong because our memories are stuck on replay.

I guess I'll just have to see in time.

But I'm scared.

That I'll actually move on.

And be happy without you.

That's it, that's my secret.

I hope you treasure this one like the others..

Sincerly Yours,

My Masterpiece.

2011-03-05T01:55:00.002+08:00

I usually have problems starting a piece.
I mean, I know what I want I want to write, but to get from here to there…
Leaves me at an awkward position.
Like there’s a mountain of an ice and I’m trying to climb it with chopsticks and phone lines for rope.
So for this particular piece, I’ve broken the ice by explaining that.
So here we go.
I’ve been struggling with school my entire life.
And it’s not a question of whether there is intelligence residing in my brain.
And it’s not a strain of teenage procrastination that fucks me over.
I can’t precisely place it, because it’s embedded in the back of my mind.
School is just so…
Boring. Trivial. Repetitive.
I have a problem accepting the fact that a piece of paper will define me to the outside world.
I refuse to accept that a piece of paper can tell me who I can or can’t be.
I cannot acknowledge the thought that a piece of paper predetermines my life after the age of four.
I’ve been in the same grade for three years.
And it’s gotten tiresome.
Like the fight that comes from me and my mother.
And I love her.
No question about that.
But we can’t seem to see eye to eye about this school situation.
She just sees it as a strain of teenage procrastination.
And worries that I will not be cut out for real life.
Because she strongly believes that going to school will train me for real life.
So I try to complete my education for her.
I’ve been trying.
For three years.
But I’m afflicted with a conflict in my mind.
My mental health is another concern of mine.
Did you know that 8 out of 10 teens are in need of mental health care?
And only 1 in 5 seeks out help, because they think no one cares?
That’s insane!
I’m not saying they’re insane.
They might be.
But I know I am.
Or I think I am.
Or I’ve been convincing myself that I am for years that it resulted in my insanity.
Which is funny.
Because it’s a problem inside my mind.
People often tell me that it’s technically not a problem.
That I should just suck it up and control my problem.
But I can’t control it.
My mind has a mind of its own.
My problem is not one to be taken lightly.
There are some things that I can’t even begin to understand.
Like the mood swings I go through every other second.
I go from calm and happy to motherfucking angry.
And I’m starting to think that I have other tenants in my mind.
Because sometimes, I would hear conversations in my head.
And I would converse with these people who are talking inside my head.
It doesn’t even feel like I’m talking with myself.
Which reminds me.
Remind me to introduce you to Jaclyn, Michael and Paul later.
Then again, I could be just imagining this entire performance.
But that begs the question of what is real.
I ‘m not convinced that you’re real.
Kind of like all my relationships.
If I told them in great detail, we’d be here for hours on end.
And I don’t want to spend more than a minute or so explaining it.
Because my memory is hazy, and I’m a little bit lazy.
Plus once you break up, you rarely remember the good times.
Only the bad, front and centre.
Reciting each line, memorized.
Under the spot light, holding the mic real tight.
My friends only hear the beginning and the end of each story.
Because I don’t like to spend time with the mushy details.
I only remember how we met, specify the entire set, because how could I forget.
The first time I laid eyes on her eyes.
And I remember the words that set fire to our world.
The last argument she had as my girl.
And looking back, I hate to agree with her.
And her conclusion for the termination of our relationship.
All my ex’s said the exact same thing.
I’m too cute for them.
But really though, I was a little bit selfish.
Got too attached, and got a lot more selfish.
I’m giving them my blood, sweat and tears.
Ask them for support when facing my fears.
Apparently equivalent exchange doesn’t exist in this plane of existence.
And being worried and caring is equivalent to annoyance and persistent.
I’ve learned a few things thanks to my ex-girlfriends.
Everything has a value, and everything has an end.
Life is so temporary, the only constant is change.
Which is ironic because constants aren’t supposed to change.
Hearts are meant to be broken and hardened.
How else are we supposed to learn?
The mind plays tricks on our physical senses.
We are secretly in hell, in pain with burns.
The dictionary is blueprints for a weapon of mass destruction.
And feelings?
They’re counterproductive, they disengage mass production.
Love is as real as you and I
Avoiding physical contact with our ears and eyes.
At the same time, as mythical as a two headed tiger with wings.
These are the lessons I learned. The pain still burns and stings.
The world lives in a cycle of struggling to survive.
Even though they know that everyone eventually dies.
It’s like reading a book that you already know the ending to.
And yet, here I am, living life pretending that I know what to do.
Here I am, barely alive, in pain, and struggling.
And yet, I smile, and preach to all.
Life is still worth living.

SixWords.

2010-10-06T11:51:00.004+08:00

Altruistic.
Neutral.
Guiltless.
Expressive.
Lonely.
Optimist.
What do these individual words mean?
They describe me.
A-N-G-E-L-O
Me.
Who is me?
Who am I?
I am nothing.
At the same time, I am everything.
No, I do not mean everything like the gods you serve.
No.
I mean everything as in I can be anything.
I am altruistic.
Altruistic.
Comes from the word altruism.
An unselfish regard for or devotion to the welfare of others.
Since I was born, I have never been too selfish.
All I want is appreciation and love.
Is that too much to ask?
I accept those who come to me for help.
Be it advice on how to get away with cheating, how to get away with stealing or how to access certain illegal drugs, I have been there to help.
From simple school homework, to boyfriend problems to family drama, I have been there.
And I cannot say that I am completely selfless because I am human.
I crave attention like everyone else.
I need love like everyone else.
Though everyone else is better at handling not having that attention and appreciation.
But I rarely get any.
I never hear the encouraging words of I'm proud of you from my parents.
I rarely see the appreciation from my peers.
I hardly see the love and affection from the girl I adore.
But I still stand.
To put others before me.
My greatest weakness.
Putting others before me eases the pain of knowing that there are none who is willing to give back the same amount of devotion I give out.
Altruistic.
Neutral.
A position of disengagement.
This is the bliss I try to attain.
Because I am not ignorant.
I chose to not pick sides.
Comes from this need to please those around me.
Equipped with charisma and good manners, I try to get along with everyone.
Getting close but not letting anyone know the real chaos that is my mind.
Staying distant so that I cannot be hurt.
But every relationship is like a hill.
And we know what happens to vehicles parked in neutral on a slope.
Gravity pulls them to their downfall.
Neutral.
Guiltless.
Innocent.
One wihtout guilt.
How I wish this was true.
But it applies to me because I do not carry guilt.
I have learned that guilt is a concept invented to degrade our existance and to severly punish those who has wronged us.
If mankind is so focused in moving forward, why do people carry guilt, a thing of the past, everywhere?
Everyone does it, except for those who cannot feel guilt.
I believe society calls those individuals sociopaths.
I guess I am one too.
I do not feel guilt because I know what I have done.
I am aware if it is right or wrong.
But there is no merit in letting it hinder me from the future I want to achieve.
Guiltless.
Expressive.
Means to make known what one thinks or feels.
I am very expressive.
I will say what's on my mind with little or no regard with how anyone will react.
But only when I am pushed to the edge of my tolerance.
I am usually indifferent and tolerant to the world.
Because in my experience, no one gives a fuck about what a free mind thinks.
Because indifference is the only way I can tolerate selfish bastards who cannot spend more than a second thinking of someone else.
And I am sick and tired of selfish people walking all over me.
But my altruistic nature won't let me learn my lesson.
So I'm stuck in this infinite, never ending cycle of being everyone's movator, like the ones in airports.
I help them move forward faster without a single glance of appreciation.
Expressive.
Lonely.
Being without company.
Cut off from others.
I can never get rid of this feeling of loneliness.
It's a virus from the neutralness that I try to feel, the altruistic nature my grandparents inspired me to be, my uncontrollable expressiveness and my guiltless conscience.
I keep my distance though I try to help everyone.
My expressiveness pushes others away.
And my guiltless conscience hurts those around me.
I am a collection of opposites.
A bipolar disorder that comes in contact with each other.
I am torn between the need to help others and the desire to feed my own needs.
I am a human that I can't even understand.
I am a monster.
And I fear that society will run me out of town.
Furthering my isolation.
Lonely.
Optimist.
To anticipate the best possible outcome.
I am this.
And no one can disprove this.
I've been through a lot.
Even worse because of how I am.
And yet, it has not stopped me from being who I am.
The hurtful experiences I've lived through has not prevented me from lending a helping hand.
It has not made me more selfish.
Although it has placed a little bit of bitterness in me.
I am still me.
And though my glass heart has been shattered time and time again, I still carry it.
Willing to share it with anyone who might be interested.
Except now, I have more pieces to give out.
I am still broken, but I'm okay with that.
After all, anything that is broken was once complete.
Optimist.
These words describe my existance perfectly.
But I still do not know who I really am.
I guess that's the beauty of being human.

Love is like a cellphone.

2010-07-16T12:58:00.000+08:00

Love is like a cellphone.
When you get a brand new one, you’re all excited. Eager to figure out everything about it. The different apps, games, take pictures with it, and figure out what else it has under it’s sleeves. You might even brag to all your friends about your new phone. Anyone who fucks with it will die.
Then a couple of months later, it’s still fairly new. You’ve dropped it here and there, but you’re still taking quite good care of it. It’s not something you’ll randomly tell your friends, as they’ve heard more than enough. The shine and gloss of your cellphone is still there, but you can tell that it’s beginning to fade. Your cellphone is more than enough.

A couple of months more, scratches became quite visible. People ask the stories behind each one. You tell a lie, saying, my friend dropped it or my baby cousin was playing with it outside or my dog found it in my bag. Hiding the fact that it was most likely a cause and effect of your doing. Still, regardless of these flaws, you accept it and move on. After all, it still is your cellphone.

Months pass, the battery starts to lose its life span. The life of your cellphone isn’t as strong as it use to be. Text messages don’t appear right away when a friend sends it through, or maybe it doesn’t even show up at all. The keypad is worn out, losing the letters that each number portray. It’s still useable, but it’s not as appealing as it once was.

A year ago, you were so proud to have that cellphone. Now, it’s just paperweight. A paperweight that can text, and make phonecalls and hold your music for you. It’s not the latest, most hi-tech one around, since you did get it a year ago, but you bear with it. You’ve been with it so much, why stop now? But you can’t lie to yourself. That new cellphone, with it’s touch screen capabilities, sleek shape and brand new useful apps seem a million times more appealing than what you have.

A week later, you walk into the store, staring at that new phone that you’ve been eye-ing for weeks. Inquiring about the kind of details that one would consider when looking for a new phone. Your old one, still by your side, can only watch in fear and trust that you won’t abandon it so easily. It knows it’s end is coming up, but if cellphones had feelings, I’m sure they’d fight to stay with you.

A few months after, you’re opening the box of your new phone.

What happens to your old one?

It might as well have never existed.

Jason&Jane

2010-05-14T14:50:00.000+08:00

“Jason.” Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Jane.” I replied in the same monotonic voice she gave me.
“What’re you doing?” This question always irked me, just a little bit. We talk on the phone for hours and a lot of our conversation has to be rerouted to this same question. It’s like the thread on some forum has died and this is the only way to spark a new one, to start a completely new topic. Why can’t she just randomly start the conversation, instead of using this method as a means of transition to something else?
“Why does it matter to you?” Answering a question with a question is redundant, but I felt no need to comply with her question.
“Well, we are talking on the phone, stupid.” Her semi-witty reply brought a deafening smile. I could imagine her smiling on the other side of the phone. Her reply isn’t really that witty, but I let her have that moment of pride.
“Ah, good point. I’m just thinking.” An answer so vague, anyone can predict the upcoming follow up question.
“What about?” And there it is.
“You.” I wasn’t being completely honest with this answer; although I wasn’t completely lying as well. My train of thoughts did include her, but I dared not share it with her, even if we are the closest of friends.
“Don’t be stupid.” Could she be any colder?
“I’m being serious.” She never did take me seriously in affairs regarding feelings.
“What about me?” Debating whether or not to share particular information with someone is quite tricky. It’s even trickier when it has to do with them. I sometimes wonder how KGB or CIA agents handle interrogation questions like these. Playing dumb certainly won’t help, because you’ve been caught. But comparing my conundrum with KGB and CIA interrogation extraction methods is clearly over exaggerating the entire situation.
“Nothing in particular.” You got to love vague answers.
“Stop being cryptic, will you?” Life is never fun without puzzles, or maybe that’s just me.
“Did you know that cynic rhymes with cryptic?” This is true.
“And so does you’re being a dick.” And so was her reply.
“Good one.” That answer deserved a moment of pride, but I could tell she was becoming sick of my cryptic messages.
“Are you going to tell me or not, Jason?” She wasn’t even asking a question at this point. She was merely stating, tell me or I’ll kill you when I see you, but in a subtler way.
“How long have we known each other?” Stalling was my forte, but she knows that as well.
“Seven years, is this relevant?” If patience is a virtue, then Jane is the exact opposite. Brutal honesty is her specialty and detours are her biggest pet peeve. I’m the complete opposite.
“How well do you know me?” See? Complete opposite.
“Well enough to know that you’re stalling, which means you’re deciding whether you should reveal your secret. You might as well though, what difference is one secret from the millions you’ve confided in me.” What’re best friends for, except to extort your deepest darkest secret out of the hiding place you call your mind.
“Prove it.” I’m running out of tactics.
“You’ve told me about how you’ve broken many young and naive girls because of your cynicism and lack of anything better to do. It’s something you take pride in, being a sweet talker and all. Although, in reality, you’re just being insecure and refuse to let any of these victims of yours get close enough to see you for who you really are. The lame dork I talk to every day.” Ouch, that’s below the belt.
“That’s not proving it.” I’m backed against a wall. I’m starting to debate whether she’s gained some sort of resentment over me after telling her my life adventures. Granted, I’m not the best human being, and I know I’ve done many unforgiving deeds, but I always assumed that Jane either didn’t care much for my antics or approved of it.
“Agatha, Sophia, Diane, Fiona, Gina, Helen, Kagome, Lisa, Patricia, Olivia, Yumi, Tina, Rita, Erika, Alicia, Alice, Vivian, Stephanie, Sandy, Nikki, Michelle, Michelle C, Michelle E, Carol, Anne, Gabby, Eileen, and your latest victim, Caroline.” Every last one of them, this is what I get for befriending someone with a memory span that would outlast my computer hard drive.
“You’re still not proving anything.” If I ever wanted to commit suicide, angering Jane would be the quickest way to get there.
“You’ve lost, Jason. You might as well tell me. You know you have no other question to circle around to. Just tell me. Will it really change how I see you? My best friend is a heartbreaking, cynical, heartless, spawn from hell asshole, and no secret you say will change that.” I smiled at her compliment. What she said was true, and if it was anyone else except Jane, I might’ve been a little bit insulted.
“I love you, Jane.” She’s not going to believe me.
“I know you do.” Typical Jane answer.
“No, I mean it. I love you.” I’m trying to win a losing war.
“And those other girls?” And there drops the Fat Man.
“I’ve got nothing that can possibly change how this situation seems right now.” Honesty and vagueness was my only hope. I was certain that being together with Jane was hopeless. I felt like I’ve been in the friend zone for seven long years and was going to be stuck there until death tears us apart. I tried to get over Jane with the means of using harmless flirting to keep my mind of it. But it never worked. No matter who it was, all I could think about was Jane. Like a KGB being brainwashed into perfection. I felt like I had to brainwash myself into a robotic state around Jane. It was the only logical way of getting out of the friend zone intact.
“Falling in love is a dangerous commitment.” Jane’s favourite motto, but it spoke nothing less than the truth.
“I know. I’ve been in love with you for seven years.” Seven years of trying to get over her.
“When did you fall in love with me?” I might as well be truthful.
“The minute I saw you.” I never thought I’d be admitting this.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I didn’t want to lose you.
“You told me you didn’t believe in love at first sight.”
“My opinion changed when I saw you.”

Boxed In.

2010-05-07T12:40:00.000+08:00

Your entire life can be summed up in one word.
Your life circles around boxes.
You get up from your bed, which is in a shape of a box.
You do your morning routine of washing up and taking a shower in a room that’s a shape of a box.
After that you walk downstairs, open your box fridge, find something to cook on top of your box stove.
Or possibly a quick meal like cereal, which comes from boxes.
Then after breakfast, you head out your box-shaped door, and sit in a car.
Which is basically a box with wheels.
Or maybe you commute, but that’s still a box with wheels.
You pay fare and drop your coins in a box.
You arrive at the station and hope to find a seat in the moving box train called a subway.
You get off, and walk or take the streetcar to your work place.
By the way, the streetcar is still a box.
Then you get to work, and take an elevator.
Which is a box.
Then when you get off your floor, you sit inside a cubicle. Which is still a box.
You sit in front of a box screen, pressing little boxes on your keyboard that makes letters magically appear in the screen before you.
Then, after a long day’s work, you leave.
Take that same elevator back down.
Take the subway back home.
Ride your box with wheels to your garage.
Open your door.
And your home.
You’ll probably spend three hours on your own personal box computer, doing your little hobbies.
Or maybe do some rest and relaxation watching television.
That is in the form of a what?
Yes, box.
Good, you’re catching on.
Then after all is done, you wash up in your box washroom.
Lie down on your box shaped bed.
Only to wake up to the same routine, the same boxed life the next day.
Now, I restate my first statement.
Your life circles around boxes.

Broken

2010-04-27T12:38:00.000+08:00

I'm broken.
And at the same time, I'm not.
I'm lonely.
All the while, I'm fine.
I'm sane.
But I'm pretty sure I'm derranged.
I'm miserable,
But I know damn well that I'm content.
Is it heaven sent ?
All these damn misfortunes that befall me ?
Honestly, I fail to see
How walking through life in my shoes is best for me.
Unless it's these
Very same obstacles that will make me better.
But I have a feeling I'll die young or grow old bitter.
All I know is that life is a big cycle of lies.
And no matter how hard I try,
I
End up on the short end of the stick.
And I
Either react too quick, or come off as a big dick.
Use to be a nice guy, but innocence is quick to die.
And a heart breaks and aches and that creates
An asshole with a beating heart that's become subzero cold.
An asshole who lost control over the redemption of his soul.
I fold, because these cards I hold are subpar.
Not even worthy for anyone to test me.
Or trust me.
I forgot how to socialize.
If misery loves company, then we have moved past intimacy.
Because she does not even cheat on me, I am the only one she needs.
Sadly, I don't believe in divorces, so I'm stuck with her for eternity.
And she's made me believe that misery is the only company I ever need.
I've learned to dislike being around anyone.
Secretly, I long to be alone with my thoughts.
Where I am judge free, because everyone just leaves me.
For someone else.
I've learned to deal with that misfortune and lived with it.
And because of this,
I've begun to think that the world is like a great black pit
And the vermin of the world inhabit it
And its morals aren't worth what a pig can spit
And I wouldn't give a shit if the world was lit.
Ablaze.
I feel like how I first came to this country in the third grade.
Except now, I have to face my fears and they all weild blades.
And every swing hits me, one hundred percent accuracy.
Instead of blood, I bleed out insercurity and sanity.
And these puncture wounds and battle scars
Will never heal, no matter how far
You are.
I'm miserable because of this.
The reason why I try to live in ignorance and bliss.
I could be mentally insane.
But that's what happens when your work ends in vein.
I'm better off being lonely.
Because everyone is scared of the monster that is me.
I'm broken on the inside.
A reminder of how my innocence died, drowning in your lies.
I'm broken.
But I still try.

Thunderous Sounds

2010-04-13T12:27:00.000+08:00

Replay that one day, early monday.
On my way to work, somethin' mundane.
The rain came down, with thunderous sounds
A girl walks by, with no umbrella around.
She took cover under the bus shelter.
I felt her shiver from this natural shower.
She sighed and indicated a goodbye.
I asked her to wait, at least till the rain grew light.
We talked for a while, but it came to a close.
As we looked on the horizon, and saw my bus came close.
The rain begain pourning much stronger now.
And she still had no umbrella around.
So I offered her mine, payment in smiles
A name to a face, and a number to dial.
She was grateful and walked on.
Turned the curb with my hand on my phone.
The light conversation that we spent.
Stayed in my mind till the day's end.
Then that evening, I called her then.
"The number you have dialed does not exist, please try again."

Bitter BreakUps

2010-04-01T15:01:00.001+08:00

I wonder if any girl looks at a guy and says to herself:
“Wow. I broke his heart once.”
Tore him apart once. After a handful of months.
Regrets that she took his faith in relationships.
Tied it with bricks and threw it off a Pacific Oceanliner ship.
Watched his glass heart sink.
As she pushed his faith to the very brink.
Of insanity. Willingly. Purposely.
So that from the shackles of commitment she'd be free.
Only to watch his fragile beating heart cease to beat.
She took the deadbeat heart for hers to keep.
Like a trophy. So that she'll never be lonely.
Because hearts are rarely given away willingly.
Deceptively, that's one way to steal a heart.
Viciously, the alternative to rip them apart.
But do they look back on it and apologize?
Say sorry for the bullshit, drama and lies?
Tell themselves, he was better off not meeting me.
Because of me, he could've been living happily.
Cancer free, from a disease called heartache.
A result of carelessly letting your heart break.
Symptoms include never healing scars and painful memories.
Building thick walls and treating everyone as enemies.
There's no immidiate cure, it's a slow recovery.
But you'll never be the same as you use to be.
Treat everything coldly, and nothing seriously.
It's the price to pay for a little bit of maturity.
I wonder if any girl has looked at a guy and said to herself,
"Wow, I broke his heart once."
Said hi to him after thousands of unspoken months.
I can only imagine his response to the reason why his scars won't heal.
"Fuck you, cunt."

Judge Me.

2010-03-23T15:08:00.002+08:00

My closest friends are inanimate objects.
I’ll just name a few.
Her name is PS3.
Now, before you judge me, let me explain myself.
She helps me reach the depths of creativity.
Allowing me to travel into worlds that only exists virtually.
Lets me shoot an M16, or drive faster than laws allow me to.
Get into a car crash and walk away without missing a single tooth.
PS3 lets me live in a world where I am not bound by mortality.
Where I can snipe a civilian without worrying if the police will catch me.
It helps me indulge in my wildest fantasies without leaving my chair.
Experience a world where you can save and load, now that’s a life fair.
My next best friend is my lighter.
Which helps me breathe in the toxic smoke of cigarettes.
Something that I know I’ll live to regret.
This occasional opportunity helps me run free from the shackles of stress.
Living smoke free was impossible ever since the Philippines.
And I know using it as a means to run from stress isn’t best.
But it works, with a side effect of nostalgic feelings of Philippines.
My notebook is my other close friend.
Holding in stories that I write out.
The bridge between who I am and what I doubt.
A link between what I think and what I show.
It’s a tradition that’s begun since I was one.
But back then, I was writing scribbles no one could understand.
My camera is my most intimate friend.
We share the same views about life and the world.
I know for a fact I treat her better than I have any other girl.
We’ve only known each other for a year.
But she’s been with me through the tough times of this year.
And these four walls are the friend that knows me best.
Unlike the people of this world, these walls don’t think of me less.
No mistake can ever change the fact that they’ll be with me.
To lend an open ear and their silent response is all I ever need.
These four walls have provided me shelter when my world tore apart.
Helped me realize the pros and cons of having a hiding heart.
Never judged me when I had a session of addiction with human beings.
And they’ve never told a soul to the events that they experienced seeing.
Someone to keep me company while I struggle to sleep soundly.
A friend who’s never complained at how often they’re around me.
These are my closest friends, are you curious to why they’re inanimate?
Because they don’t fucking judge me.

Insomnia.

2010-03-23T15:07:00.000+08:00

It’s two o’clock, and I’m stuck in a zone where insomnia kicks in.
The thing is, I’ve been battling this inability to sleep since I was six.
Kicks in whenever my thoughts wander farther than the counting of sheeps.
Thoughts seep through the walls I placed whenever I’m trying to catch sleep.
Conversations partake inside my skull between yesterday’s reflection and todays.
Arguements take place because I reminisce of what was in the good old days.
One name is constantly thrown into the mix, but why does it have to be yours?
Looking back to these memories have begun a chore, I thought these were closed doors.
What more could you possibly want? Haunting me in my thoughts late at night.
And I might just throw the memories of you to a place where there is no light.
In plain sight, it seems like my insomnia is a result of a nocturnal sleeping habit.
But in the limelight, it’s the result of pondering what if we never did split.
We both quit a little bit too quick, if only deleting memories was done in clicks.
It’s 2:01, and I’m still stuck in a state of insomnia.
Paranoia has crept up on me, ever since we unhooked your bra.
Ever since then, I felt like that’s when the problems would start.
Ever since then, I felt like that’s when I would wish to restart.
But life’s not a game system that you could turn off at any given moment.
It’s more like a volcano erupting after millions of decades being dormant.
I wish I had a list of things to say that might’ve changed your mind.
Instead of not even figthing and leaving what we had started behind.
And I remember when I use to call you mine, that was so long ago.
A lot has changed since we last talked. My heart’s gone cold.
2:02, the life of an insomniac, left to think about you.
Do you still think about me? Did I mean as much as I you?
Cupid, you have a sick sense of humour, plauging my heart.
Shot me with a dozen arrows, none of them missed their mark.
I’ve been forgotten, like pharoahs once they’ve lost to mortality.
I just wish to ask you one question. Just one question.
Do you remember me?
2:03 AM. Zero, Two, Zero, Three
The former date of our anniversary.
Now I’m left thinking of how we use to be.
I know now that trying would’ve been the key.
We broke it off in order to preserve what we had.
Fuck it, we should’ve tried, we lost what we had.
Regrets will only kill me, so I pretend to not care.
Forget about you and me, it’s a story I dare not share.
Fuck insomnia! Fuck Cupid! I just want to sleep!

I am Tired.

2010-03-20T15:40:00.001+08:00

I am tired.
Of open ended relationships going nowhere.
Chasing a girl to simply see if she's the right one.
Hiding my past because I know it can't be undone.
I am tired.
Of being the ventilation system that helps air out your life.
Placing a girl before my priorites because I am her friend.
Doing so much for an individual because my time, I always lend.
I am tired.
Of trying to please every single person in the world.
Making sure that my life fits accordingly with their plans.
Speaking out my mind but they can never understand.
I am tired.
Of repeating myself over and over to a crowd not even listening.
Trying to improve on myself as a human being in general
Attempting to make life worth it, before my final burial.
I am tired.
I am tired.
Of living my life so cautiously, every step matters now.
Life has a cruel sense of humour and I am his test subject.
And I fear that being happy is something that I will never perfect.
Of hearing the break up stories every other month.
Bending over backwards to try and find the common ground.
Because my life is on a train with no conducter around.
I am tired.
Of listening to people talk about how my life is worthless.
Knowing that other people are out nurturing their education.
While I am still here, sitting down, waiting at a station.
I am tired.
Of seeing my friends grow up, while I am left behind.
Envying the happiness of those who were once mine.
While I am still here, waiting patiently in line.
I am tired.
Of getting addicted to seeing the smile of those around me.
Watching my life slip right through these hands God provided.
While I am just watching as my dreams and reality colided.
I am tired.
Of having to rely on the adrenaline I feel around friends.
Building up anger as I wait by the sidelines while life goes on.
While I am just dreaming, hoping that this nightmare moves on.
I am tired.
Let me sleep.

Uh...

2010-02-26T13:52:00.003+08:00

So lately, I've been writing more and more things about my ex. I never did deal with that break up thoroughly. But I won't go into details. I suppose these poems are my way of officially getting over whatsherface. Okay, let's just get to it.

Heartaches&Heartbreaks.

I have issues.
A lot of them.
I’m an asshole.
Plain and simple.
But that’s not my fault.
It’s an unresolved issue that made me this way.
This unresolved issue I’m talking about… is an ex.
Ever since she CHEATED on me, I think I broke.
And it’s no joke, I look at relationships bitterly.
Always thinking, how could this possibly benefit me?
I don’t look at every girl like an object.
But I see them as the farthest thing from perfect.
Another species, brought by aliens from another planet on their flying ships.
My insecurities towards these beings spawn from a previous relationship.
It was good at the start.
Thought it was real, that Cupid hit the mark.
But months later, things changed drastically.
I didn’t get texts back, or phone calls.
Not a single good morning, goodnight, sweet dreams, nothing at all.
When ever I’d call, she’d say someone’s on the other line.
Can’t talk tonight, too tired because she was up all night.
Maybe I was being paranoid. Clingy.
I’ve tried resolving this issue.
Placed together words that turned into sentences.
Sentences turned into paragraphs.
Paragraphs into letters.
Letters into essays.
And essays into an entire novel, of emotions, in it’s rawest form.
The first piece I wrote after me and her were through, is filled with chicken scratch and sentences I can barely understand.
All I can make out of it is bitch, slut, whore.
And another piece only says how I wish we could’ve been more.
But in all of them, I asked myself the same question, what were those seven months for?
I want to think that I learned something more than how much she hates being flattered.
Something more than, in her mind, family is the only thing that mattered.
A little bit more than her birthday’s on the twenty-seventh day of june.
A lot more than knowing that she buries herself in anime when her family’s not in tune.
Or like how she and her mom are like best friends, she knew what we did when we were home alone.
Or how her exboyfriend took advatange of her, and she still has his number on her phone.
I want to think that I learned more than her favourite songs are ones to deal with Cupid.
But she hates the words forever, never and always, because she think infinity is stupid.
I want to think that I learned something, more than how fragile you are when your heart breaks.
And when a heart aches, it’s evidence that what you felt was not fake.
So the issue at hand is after the hell she put me through,
After I did all that I could possibly do,
Only proves that love’s existance is not true.
Because all that I love you that came out of her mouth,
Really meant we could never work out.
It really meant that she’ll always leave when someone better comes along.
Because she felt that staying with one guy forever was too long.
So the issue at hand is, why have we not changed the definition of L-O-V-E.
Because when we’re looking for love, we’re really sayin’ F-U-C-K me.
Because we could substitute the word love for lust.
Because we think in every relationship, sex is a must.
Because I’ve started to feel that love isn’t worth my time anymore.
And I'm starting to think, that’s what those seven months were for.

Silence

2010-02-22T14:56:00.000+08:00

In this deafening silence, I can hear your voice, ever so clearly.
It’s like you’re standing right beside me.
Whispering in my ears, telling me that you miss me.
And though I try to drive the thought out of my mind.
I can’t unhear it.
You’ve spoken the words that I’ve yearned to hear.
Because it proves that you made a mistake breaking my heart.
It proves that I was unjustly torn apart.
It proves that YOU were wrong and I was right.
Because when you TEXTED me that we were through,
A part of me could not believe that it was true.
Though a bigger part of me knew the truth.
That our happily ever after would never come true.
But your voice is just a whisper in the winds.
A creation of my own imagination.
I want to think that you do miss me, ever so dearly.
I tell myself, of course she misses me, why wouldn’t she?
But I know.
I know that I am lying between my teeth.
Why would she miss me.
I am undeserving of an intimacy of that caliber.
I had not done anything to prove myself worthy of such a relationship.
My insecurities conflict with what I tell myself, everyday.
I tell myself that I am okay.
That I am content.
That I am proud of who I am.
That I am over you.
But I know.
I know the truth underneath every sentence I speak.
Everytime I say I’m okay, I’m admitting defeat.
Everytime I say I am content, I’m admitting disatisfaction.
Everytime I say I am proud, I’m admitting disappointment.
And when I say I am over you, I’m admitting that you still haunt my mind.
I’m admitting that you still have ownership on my heart.
I’m admitting that I am still in love, though we are apart.
This is the longest time I have spent trying to get over someone.
A little over a year has passed since I last heard your voice.
How I yearn to speak with you once again.
But all I hear is silence.
And in this deafening silence, I can only hear my own voice.
I miss you.

Karma Gets to You

2010-02-17T14:47:00.001+08:00

Valentine's

2010-02-15T06:12:00.000+08:00

I use to dream about falling down. Nothing detailed, I would be just watching myself fall down an endless hole.

It always started off as if I had just woken up in the middle of the night. I would blink a couple of times, but my vision would only see this shade of black. I’d walk around, struggling to navigate around this dark area. As I continued to walk slowly, on my fifteenth step, the floor would vanish. My body fell but my soul seemed to linger just right behind my body. I would see myself sweating, screaming, reaching out, trying to find something to grab onto. My stomach would be in a flutter and my heart pounding with adrenalin. Normally, right before I wake up, I would feel my body hit something, what I assumed is the floor to this damnable hole. But tonight, I stayed asleep. Instead of waking up, I was staring at myself, lying, breathless on the cold floor. There was a woman standing above my body’s left hand, smoking a cigarette. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were lifeless. Her nails were black and her lips bright red. Her black hair was complimented by her eye shadow. She looked down on me and shook her head. She took her eyes off me and looked at where I fell from. She whispered I love you, and my dream ended more mysteriously than it had ever before.

-

“Edgar! You’re going to be late!”

“I know, grandpa, I know!” Edgar rushed out his front door, speeding past his neighbour, who was struggling to open her front door.

“Late again, mister?” He didn’t bother turning around at the sound of the lovely voice that had spoken random words towards him.

“I know, I know!” She sighed at her failed attempt to get him to notice her. She sighed, and opened the door easily.

-

“You’re not our real daughter, you can never be her!” The abuse in Anastasia’s foster home was getting more severe than anyone knows. She’s never been physically abused but the words that came out of their mouths were too much for her fragile self to bear. She’s grown to accept the fact that she’s always second place to her late step-sister, and though she tries to best her, her efforts seem futile. She’s learned to cope with this domestic problem with the help of cancer sticks. After the daily lecture of how she’s not her step-sister, she goes outside and shortens her lifespan. As she took her jacket, she noticed that she only had one left. She took her wallet today, deciding to go to the convenience store to buy some. She slammed the door shut to notify her drunken foster parents that she had left the house. Placing her headphones, she tuned out the world around her. She didn’t notice the boy next door, curiously staring at her, as she walked away from their front porch.

-

Edgar’s coping mechanism is completely different from his neighbour. He releases it in more productive ways, like writing or the remedial, primal screams that he does, when words can’t express what he’s feeling. Today was Valentine’s Day. The worst holiday to be ever invented, Edgar thought. He would always keep to himself on this day, even though he’s been asked by friends to come out to watch the latest love-themed movie. Today, writing out his thoughts was near impossible, as his page had been blank for over two hours. He grabs his coat and quietly walks out. He closes the door behind him, closes his eyes, takes a few step forward, and let out a primal scream that, hopefully, no one heard. This was his most effective way of coping with the troubles of life.

“So, you’re the one making the screaming sound I hear at this time.” To Edgar’s surprise, someone had heard him today. And it was none other than his neighbour. Edgar looked down, embarrassed at his behaviour.

“Sorry,” he muttered. She laughed and he looked up at her. Her black hair played with the chilly winds. She was holding a cigarette close to her mouth. The weather made her skin seem pale, although her lips were bright red. She took a puff from her cancer giving remedy, and exhaled it. She seemed different, compared to when she had tried to start conversation with him before. She seemed...colder, less friendly.

“No need to apologize. That’s one mystery solved. Here’s another mystery, what’s your name?” Edgar introduced himself and walked up to her for a handshake. She was confused by the gesture, but extended her arms slowly, cautiously. As they shook hands, Edgar winced at the coldness of her skin. He got a closer look of her. She was wearing black eye shadow, with black nail polish. Her lips were red from what Edgar assumed was lipstick.

“I’m Anastasia. You can call me Ana though.” The two had talked until the sun had begun to rise.

“Well, Ana,” Edgar seemed more comfortable with her now, “I’m going back inside.”

“Sure, sure,” she replied. Her eyes seemed to have had more life after talking to him.

Edgar got up and turned away from Ana. As he began walking away, he paused, “You shouldn’t smoke by the way. It hinders your beauty.”

Ana looked at her cigarette and realized that the fire had gone out a long time ago. She replaced her coping mechanism with talking to the boy she’s been trying to get to know ever since she was placed here eleven years ago. She didn’t even crave the habit anymore. Edgar was looking away, so he did not notice Ana throw away the pack of smokes. He also didn’t see the woman with skin as pale as the moon, nails as black as blood, eyes shadowed with dark mascara, lips red like cherries whisper I love you.

Preview.

2010-02-11T10:30:00.001+08:00

I use to think that putting the past in the past is the best way to make a relationship last.
And when I passed a certain point, it was okay to stop being so cheesy.
But see, I'm branded as flirty, when I'm really being friendly.
And my girlfriend's the jealous type, use to be the teasin' type, so she's secretly mad at me.
Doesn't bug her that she's losing phone time, down time, chill time.
Until its too late to say why aren't I in your limelight?
And I always reply, I'm busy babe, school and all.
When in reality, I'm thinking, I have another call.
Then they say, I miss your voice, I called you earlier.
You did? Oh, my cellular? Yeah, it went to voicemail everytime.
So can we talk now? Sorry babe, someone's on the other line.
She hangs up, a little bit mad at me.
No guilt cause I know she's a little bit in love with me.
Back to the other call, and it's another chick.
You're probably thinking that I'm such a dick.
I know, I'm kinda proud of it.
Because being nice didn't do shit.
Always got me stuck in that friend zone.
Only got phone calls when drama hits close to home.
The phone girl asked who was that?
Don't worry girl, what matters is that I'm back.
She talks more, but I didn't pay attention attentively
All I heard was something, something, boyfriend broke up with me.
Green light, flow of conversation switched quick.
Green light, she flirtin' back, lust is lit.
Feed that fire with temptation and desire.
You're single too, right? Obviously, said the liar.
Break up with the girlfriend for this one night stand.
Cut off all ties with jealousy, so lust should understand.
I'll tell her, I broke up with her for you.
Why did you lie to me, Because you wouldn't want me to.
What matters is that I didn't picked her over you.
Would you want me to stay with her instead of you?
She shook her head, and hugged me real tight.
Said I'm happy that you're my boyfriend now.
I'm thinking in my head, don't get too comfortable now.
I have to tell you something, she whispered to me.
My exboyfriend broke up with me, because I let his heart bleed.
I cheated on him, though I would tell him otherwise.
I love you, I don't want our foundation to be filled with lies.
I smiled and she smiled right back.
This girl couldn't see how karma already got her back.

-
I think it's finished, but I kinda feel like it's not. Anyways, it's something different and I'll prolly tweak it when I get back from bowling.

What it do?

2010-02-10T11:04:00.002+08:00

So, I've been loafting on this here site. Because I haven't written anything in a while. Too focused on my 365 project thing (flickr.com/photos/sinematic). There's suppose to be a snowstorm tommorow. YES. A legit reason to not go out of my house. I figure, my house is my sanctuary. Nothing bad ever happens to me. Geeez, I hope I don't become like those people that are afraid to leave their house. Okay, well, if you're so intersted in my life, follow me on tumblr. I usually post nonesesne and random things there. This right here, is for my serious things, like poetry and other fictional works of the sort. Tryin' to keep this site hella professional.

lateryears.tumblr.com

365 Days Project

2010-02-05T13:22:00.000+08:00

Two weeks down. Fifty more to go.

M.I.A.

2010-02-02T12:35:00.003+08:00

It's not like anyone checks my site, regardless. But I have been MIA for a while. All for good reason. I've been hard at work, (obviously, it's a joke). But I've been building up my photo collection with my a picture a day project. I was giving up on it, because of lack of inspiration. Until this.
A good friend of mine said to me:
"So what I like about it is that, or no scratch that. What I find interesting is that in an ordinary day these objects, people, etc; are what you choose to take a photo of. So they must have somehow impacted your day - out of the 24 hours, that one photo is the one you choose to represent that day- and I find that interesting."
Totally inspired me to see this through !

Mortal Superhero

2010-01-22T21:57:00.004+08:00

“Michael, where are you taking me!”

“Just keep your eyes closed. It’s something that you said we’d go to when we first started going out.”

“I’ve kept my eyes closed for the past hour or so!”

“You’re so impatient, April. I had to get everything fixed. Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

April opened her eyes and her mouth dropped. She smiled and turned her head.

“Seriously? A bowling alley? For our first year anniversary? You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all, you use to bowl, and so did I. You keep telling me that you’d kick my ass in it, so here we are. For our first year anniversary, we’re going to compete against each other.”

“That’s sentimental, different and odd, but why THIS bowling alley?”

“Why not?”

“This is an exclusive bowling alley, a hangout for gangsters, drug dealers and thugs.”

“And it’s also the spot for professional bowlers, and it has a lot of publicity. Tonnes of people come here just to watch people play.”

“So, you want to embarrass me by playing here?”

“You hit 200s! I’m the one that should be worried, I haven’t played in years!”

“Neither have I! We should go...”

April’s eyes looked at the floor where her bowling equipment was lying. Michael went through all of this, staying here is the least I could do, right? She looked up and saw Michael’s hurt eyes. Even though he didn’t want to tell her, he worked hard on finding her bowling alley that her late grandfather took her too when she was young, digging through her attic for her equipment and checking with the locals if anything serious has been happening in that area. It’s true what she pointed out, the local thugs like to hang around here. But they don’t shoot off bullets like what the media portrays them as. It’s more like a gathering of young teens whose families aren’t the best places to be at. Thugs in this particular area are victims of abuse, drug-hooked parents and accidental pregnancies. Michael, of course, understood their point of view, as his birth wasn’t planned either.

“Michael, how much does it cost here?” Michael’s face lit up.

-

“This is going to be our fifth game, are you sure you’re still up? I mean, a tie is a horrible way to end, but you can forfeit you know?”

“You’re so competitive, April.”

“Great game, you guys.” A new voice spoke from behind them. But random compliments happened daily at this location. They didn’t notice the crowd that grew behind them. No other lanes were being used except theirs. All eyes were on them. April and Michael both blushed at the realisation of this audience.

“Sorry, let me introduce myself. I’m Aaron, regular here.” He was sitting on the seats instead of watching from the semi circle the crowd had formed. Something about him made Michael feel uneasy, but he just shook it off.

“Name’s Michael. This is April.”

“Nice to meet you, Aaron.”

“Likewise. Just pretend the audience isn’t here. You won’t even know they’re here. They cheer like it’s a golf tournament, so don’t worry.”

“Uhm, excuse me,” a group of young girls came out of the crowd, probably in their late teen years, “did you say that you’re Aaron?”

“That depends on who is asking.” His answer seemed so cold. He didn’t even glance at the four girls acting like elementary children professing their childish crush.

“I’m Jenny, and these are my friends, Christine, Jackie and Carrie. Uhm,” she seemed to be getting more nervous by the minute, “my friend Christine thinks you’re cute and wanted to ask for your number.”

“No I do not!” Christine protested too quickly. She gave away the truth in the sound of her protest and the blush of her skin, “Jackie did!” The entire conversation transformed into the four young girls playing the blame game.

“Why don’t we all talk somewhere, more secluded?” The four of them blushed instantly and followed Aaron as he disappeared into the crowd. The spectators seemed un-phased by that little fiasco. Michael laughed at the thought of the girls being turned down by Aaron. He’s way too uninterested in them. The crowd silently urged the two competitors to continue playing.

-

“I’m glad it ended as a tie, April.”

“Why? A tie’s the worst thing to end a competition on.”

“But at least we’re not mad at each other, right?”

“Yeah. I wonder what happened to Aaron.” The alley owner picked up the conversation.

“He said something about going out for drinks with them. He took my car keys too, that damned brat.”

“Wait, I assumed he was like sixteen,”

“No, ma’am. I think he’s seventeen.”

“How’d he get his license so early?” Michael was a bit jealous. His cousins taught him how to drive but his parents forbade him to get his license until he’s in college.

“He doesn’t have one. That seventeen year old hoodlum’s always getting into trouble. I don’t know how he gets away with it. Being the leader of the local Hunters gang. Sometimes, I think that the cops are watching over that gang more than trying to take it down.”

Michael and April both dropped their bowling ball bags. Their jaws almost dropped at the thought that the biggest gang leader was sitting right in front of them.

“Hunter? As in the gang that’s chalked up more dead bodies than the cops can count?”

“Must mean you’re from uptown, huh? Well, the media spins that tale the wrong way. See, we live in the worst part of the neighbourhood. Our area is right in the middle of the Pirates Clan and War Hawks. And those two gangs are always playing monopoly with these neighbourhoods. These parts here are the biggest drug users this city’s ever seen. So the Pirates and War Hawks are always claiming property. And sometimes, we get in the crossfire because we get mistaken for members of the other gang. Both gangs think they’re tough so they pick on the kids in the middle. Then, at night, they stand on the corners of their territory and sell drugs to the parents of those children. And sometimes, the gangs have a shoot out in a neighbourhood with kids playing in the street for no apparent reason or warning. Aaron, a former drug dealer and former member of War Hawks, saw the wrong and did something about it. He made his own gang, where everyone is accepted. I guess it’s thanks to the media that the Hunters have a higher body count than both rival gangs. I think it’s just because it happens more often in the Hunters streets. But the cops know in their heart, these kids just want protection, and a way out of this hard life. I’ve seen the mayor secretly thank Aaron for keeping as many kids safe. Look at that, I’m rambling on again. Sorry about that.”

The old man seemed to speak highly of Aaron, like he was proud of him. It brought a smile to Michael knowing that someone is actually trying to make a difference.

“Why are they called Hunters, old man?” April always asked the most irrelevant questions.

“It was given by the media as well. One of the local boys, probably nine or ten, got shot. It was straight execution, one bullet to the child’s head. Aaron hunted the people responsible. Needless to say, he got what he deserved. Aaron turned himself in, but the judge let him walk on substantial evidence. The media claims that he was paid off and the judge lost his job for letting Aaron go for what he thought was right. I even hear that Aaron’s trying to bring the two gangs to peace by putting together an organized drug market. I know, it sounds bad, but that’s what the two gangs fight for. Market distribution, and trust me, it’s still nothing compared to the competition that the big business companies fight. But around here, we’ll take whatever peace we can get, even if it means basically locally legalizing the drug merchandise. Aaron’s a good guy, and I believe that not even God will deny that.”
As April and Michael headed for their car, April looked up at the moving clouds and smiled.

“What do you think of that Aaron character, babe?”

“He’s exactly what this world needs. A mortal superhero.”

DayTripper

2010-01-19T12:13:00.000+08:00

I thought I dreamt it all.
Because I don't normally remember events.
Or anything else for that matter.
I thought it was all a dream.
I was only fifteen.
Eager to take on a challenge.
I was ready...
To get a girlfriend.
But I was too shy.
Too unconfident.
Not exactly the slickest with words,
Or the sharpest of tongue.
My mouth would seal shut,
When in the presence of the opposite gender.
Face, staring at the ground,
Palms, dripping with sweat,
The most words I've said to a girl.
Was honestly, I like your socks.
Because I would always look down.
Never in direct contact with her eyes.
As if, the minute I looked at her eyes,
I would be petrified like she was medusa.
Or my eyes would combust to flames
Like staring face to face with the sun's flares.
But somehow, we still ended up alone... at her house.
She laughed a little, and told me to look up.
I told her that I can't.
She took her hand and lifted my chin.
And the minute her eyes matched mine...
I noticed that her eyes were hazel brown.
And the more I stared into her eyes...
The more I felt like I was being lured into some sort of trap.
Like how fishes use bright colours to attract prey.
I tried to look away but I couldn't.
As her hands were still on my face, she motioned her face closer.
I got a little nervous.
I've never been THIS close to a girl before.
She closed her eyes and puckered her lips.
I... backed down.
She smiled and apologized.
I said, that's okay.
When in truth, I should've been the one apologizing.
I could've had my first kiss with a girl that I've been admiring for so long.
The girl who's beauty I've adored for so long.
The woman that's surpassed every other girl out there.
The person that I could never give a rating of one to ten.
Because she was above that, and not just because of her looks.
The way she walked brought jealousy to her competition.
The way she flirts brought every guy to his knees.
And I was determined to be the one person she truly desires.
I told her that I liked her.
That I've never kissed anyone before.
And she told me, it's okay.
She'd take care of me.
So, I agreed.
She was on top of me, faster than I'd have imagined.
I thought it was like, those cute disney kisses.
Where it'd be a quick puck, and they both shy away.
But it evolved into something more than that.
Next thing I knew, her clothes were coming off.
And so were mine.
It was like instinct.
My first time going so far and I knew what to do?
What is this madness?
I felt like my whole body went on auto pilot.
Like I knew what came next.
I was scared.
And excited at this new adventure.
This passion was intense.
I couldn't not enjoy it.
I've never felt a sensation before.
Then she pulled out a condom.
And I said...
WHOA THERE.
We're only fifteen.
I admire you and all,
But I want to get to know you first.
This was great and all,
But I want our first time to be special.
Then she spoke words that I never imagined her saying.
This isn't my first time...
Then it hit me.
The reason she brought jealousy to her competition.
The reason she brought every guy to his knees.
I found out.
I found out.
It took me so long to find out.
But I found out.
She's a one way ticket.
She only played one night stands.

Unrequited Love.

2010-01-15T15:33:00.002+08:00

Precipitation waters the earth, like how a good sleep refreshes the mind.
But the rain turns to snow, like how I'm still frozen, waiting for a sign.
Covers the earth in a white blanket, making the world seem so pure.
If only life was so simple, but the weather's always unsure.
Changes frequently, and so does the mind of those living here.
Troubled by needs and desires, we lose sight of what's dear.
We hand over our life in order to obtain what we lust.
Like how the weather of our country defines who is us.
But you're still so distant like the clouds that float by.
Holding you is impossible cause you're a cloud in the sky.
Always following wherever the wind may take you to.
And I'm on the ground, hoping you'll notice me too.
The Beatles say that love is all we really need.
And that it'll grow, as long as that seed feeds.
But it can't grow without water, air and sunshine.
How can it gain light when I'm never on your mind?
I'm always beneath your shadow, you don't feel the same.
It's your fault that I love you, so you're the one to blame.
If you were not as beautiful as the sun setting on the horizon,
If you were not as lovely as the rising of the sun,
If you were not as caring as the gentle summer breeze,
If you were not as calming as the sounds of crickets and bees,
If your voice was not as warming as the sun in the morning of spring,
Then I would have never felt Cupid's arrow's sting.
I crave your acceptance like a desert for precipitation.
Your importance crept on to me like a thunder storm's invasion.
It was subtle at first, the calm before a storm.
The small hi's and hello's, that's how my feelings were born.
We became close, and it lit sunshine on my heart.
I was going to confess to you that you've stolen my heart.
But I learned that you had feelings for another guy.
You were like water particles that evaporated to the sky.
I had you in my arms, but nature took its course.
There's no point in complain, because it's my fault, of course.
I took too long, took our time for granted.
Being with you was all I ever wanted.
The time we spent use to be like watching the sun set.
Now it's like a tsunami disaster, and I'm trying to forget.
I was swept up, and brought to a distant place.
I hear it's called the friend zone, what a terrifying place.
It's constantly raging of twisters from your words.
Telling me things like, "to me, you mean the world."
In a matter of short words, a thyphoon drowned my smile.
But I hold on, in hopes that everything will be worthwhile.
Earthquakes break apart the land I've nurtured for us.
Volcanos erupt in anger because I can see his eyes filled with lust.
But I cannot break that gentle smile on your face.
So I bear with it, and live in this friend zone place.
Afraid that you would not see what I see in front of me.
Because you could never see you and me as an us and we.
You never saw me like that, I'm trying to steal my heart back from you
And when that happens, I'll make sure to steal your heart too

Ready Or Not

2010-01-14T15:57:00.001+08:00

It’s been a while since I flowed straight fire.
I come from a place where we all breathe higher.
Bunch of dudes standing on the block.
Hella people sayin they got their glock cocked.
But I don’t believe them, I try to keep clean.
But I aint inexperienced, the shit that I’ve seen?
You gotta watch your back because up in tdot
They’ll come after you, whether you’re ready or not.
One block, I see a man standin on the corner.
One pop, I see his face in the coroner.
Next day, someone else took his spot.
All day, it’s like a mall parking lot.
See now, the problem that we got.
And we, always hide from the cops.
But we, blame the problem on the cops.
Instead, our doors are always locked
Down, trying to avoid bein’ a snitch.
You know what they say, snitches get stitches.
You know how they play, bitches get wishes.
But it’s a deadly routine, a short lived career.
I pretend not to see, because I’ve lived my life here.
This is the life of a struggling young teen.
So don’t underestimate the scenes teens see.

Nothing to Fear

2010-01-10T16:42:00.000+08:00

She felt alone
I felt her pain
Always home
Dealt with pain
I reached out
Ease her pain
She hid herself
To mask the pain

So I let it go,
If she wants to feign
That she's okay,
That she's really sane
I told her that
I'm always here
And that she has
None to fear

But yesterday,
I heard the news
She lost herself,
To her own blues
Her white walls
Dripped with blood

Stopped her mind
From bringing up
All that pain
That lonliness
She was scared
Of being alone
Though she never
Called my phone
And now her life
Has quickly stopped

She'll never see
Tommorow's sun
Never feel
Tommorow's light
Never hear
Tommorow's songs
Never shed
Another tear
But at least now,
She has nothing to fear.

...

2010-01-09T17:29:00.001+08:00

After all this time, that wound has never healed.

On Hold.

2010-01-08T15:22:00.002+08:00

I'm so confused. I'm trying to make a tumblr but I suppose it'll take a few days for me to get use to it. But it's not like I'm abandoning my blogspot. Nope, this blogspot has helped me express what I'm thinking. Leaving it would be the inhumane thing to do, as ridiculous as that sounds. Feels like a new adventure. I suppose I should open a tumblr, not like I'm doing anything productive.

But I'll be working dilligently (I hope) on my stories. I'd like to finish them before the new year.

lateryears.tumblr.com

Sneak Preview/Reminder

2010-01-07T16:29:00.003+08:00

Just a sneak peek for what's coming up with my writing.
I'm working on a written project, for myself of course.
And for those who care to read it.
I'm almost through.
I'll give you the titles of the stories that I'm working on at the moment.
And you may ask yourself, why so many.
A tribute to how much I love writing.
Plus a chance to try different things with each story.
And they are titled...

One Night

Waking Up (This one is already up on my blog, under Midnight Stories.)

Aaron's Story

Sleepless Nights

Seven Day Cruise

From The Start

And as a bonus, here's a little excerpt from "From The Start,"

Thirteen looked at her children's innocent eyes. Tears began rolling down, for she did not know how to explain the situation to her twin children. The shock of what she had just lost is still too fresh in her mind. She embraced the children, and the children hugged her in return. Although, she knew that her children questioned why she was eminating such sorrow and despair. The twins took a step back and her daughter wiped her tear away. Her son grabbed his sisters hand and Thirteen smiled.

"Don't cry," her daughter spoke so innocently, "everything will be okay." As if she really knew what her fragile mother recently witnessed.

"Always take care of your sister," she knew that her time wasn't up just yet, but she spoke as if her impending doom was nearing her heart. The young boy nodded his head. "No matter what, always look out for your twin sister, Aaron."

Four Hours.

2010-01-01T09:02:00.007+08:00

Four hours to go till the New Years. This year has been filled with great adventures, impossible obstacles and amazing friends. I just wanted to take this time to thank the few who I am more than proud to call friends. I consider each and every one of these people family. (Not in any particular order.)

Marcus L
John D
Immanuel U
Kim L
Danielle U
Voydie A
Lester P
Lawrence T
John H
Karl N
Kirstie S
Annie A
Everest F
Justin A
Sandy R
Gillian M
L Dalton
Linda K
Beautee A
Chrisshan L
Luxe C
AJ M

Thanks, and remember, I got you fam.

Quote.

2009-12-29T16:24:00.003+08:00

"Everything that humans can imagine, is a possibility in reality." -Physicist Willy Karen.

Something I found worth remembering while reading a manga.

Holidays.

2009-12-26T09:26:00.001+08:00

Merry Christmas & Boxing Day.

Happy Holidays.

NTS

2009-12-17T09:15:00.010+08:00

This shows how much I have no life, but I need to write it down or I might lose track of them.

TV Shows-
House
HowIMetYourMother
BigBangTheory
Bones
NCIS
Fringe
Dexter

Manga-
Fairy Tail - UTD
Mirai Nikki - UTD
FullMetalAlchemist - UTD
Naruto - UTD
One Piece - UTD
Zetsuen no Tempest - UTD
Monster Soul - CH XX
Yu Yu Hakusho - CH 10
Flame of Recca - CH XX
Law of Ueki - CH XX
Mahou Sensei Negima - CH XX
Ayashi no Ceres - CH XX
Bleach - CH XX
Darker Than Black - CH XX

I'll add more once I remember them.

* UTD = up to date

Double Poems :)

2009-12-16T14:18:00.003+08:00

Seeing as I haven't updated in a while, I present you with TWO poems :)
Enjoy !

To Be Human.

To be human is to be imperfect, little quirks and flaws.
To look past the imperfection, and portray patience.
To be human is to error, make mistakes, and take the fall.
Or place blame on someone else, and sneak around the truth.
To be human is to lie, exagerate the truth, alter what it really is.
Adjust it, tamper it, adapt it, turn ignorance into bliss.
To be human is to understand, see past the walls insecurity put together.
Because judging one's insecurities is like disregarding a well thought out letter.
To be human is to feel the emotions set free regardless if it's sincere.
Regardless if it was faked, isolation is what humans really fear.
To be human is to protect what one holds dear.
To throw their life away to keep their loved ones away from fear.
To be human is to love, and feel that love given back.
To know guilt, regret, pride, lust and whatever you lack.
To be human is to smile, ear to ear, regardless of the pain.
To be human is to smile, ear to ear, to hide away the pain.
To be human is to feel guilt, and repentance when you've done wrong.
To be human is to break apart, lose pieces, only to come back up, strong.
To be human is to give away your heart, regardless of the future up ahead.
To be human is to take risks, regardless of the future bleeding out red.
To be human is to grow up, living the adventure of the real world.
Fill out dreams and goals, and find that perfect girl.
Raise a family, grow old and pass away.
Live life to the fullest and still live with regrets of that one day.
To be human is complicated, and simple at the same time.
But I don't want to be human, because they never have enough time.

The Monster Inside Me.

I was walking in the depths of my mind.
I came across this room with a cage inside.
I saw a figure in the cage before me.
He was bound by weights on his shoulder.
He turned his head and his eyes shined red.
He growled at me and muttered a few words.
I must've misheard and he walked towards me.
Stood right in front of me.
He smiled at me and my body shuddered at the glance of his crooked grin.
As I stared into his dark, shallow eyes, I could feel my body trembling at the thought that this monster is inside of me.
You could feel the evil seep through.
I wondered what created it and how could I undo this monster from being born.
But its like I was staring into a mirror.
Except every scar, bruise, pain and thorn was visibly present.
And in the abscenece of acceptance, this evil in front of me was born.
I could see the events that made him stronger flash before me.
Every time I felt alone.
Every moment I faced depression.
Every night where I am left alone wtih thoughts.
Every opportunity my heart was crushed before my very eyes.
Every brick that I covered myself with.
Every soul that abandoned me.
Every smile that was faked.
Every word that inspired deciet.
Every tear that drops
Every line I write.
Every poem I compose.
Every picture I capture.
Every breath I take.
I gave life to this monster.
I shuddered once again at the thought that this monster is inside me.
No, this monster is me.

Christmas Wishlist !

2009-12-15T12:26:00.003+08:00

Okay, normally, I'm not the materialistic type. It's quite rare that I want a bunch of things all at once. But I thought I'd indulge my greedy nature and show my readers what kind of things I desire. But some of them aren't that materialistic. So...here we go !

HIMYM Seasons 1-5

No Country For Old Men DVD

Nikon SB-400 Speedlight Flash

More enthusiastic and not busy models

Borderlands (PS3)

A great part time job

Better photography skills

More photoshoots

Better sleeping habits

Better educational habits

Better writing skills

Commitment, dedication and motivation to my stories

A new video card so I can dual screen

XBOX 360 ELITE (With HALO 3)

;)

Inspiration

That wish that I wish for every 11:11 to come true.

And, that's it, I suppose.

kristine, dianne says (11:18 PM):
kinda miss your voice
just a tad bit

^ :P

Oh.

2009-12-10T16:23:00.001+08:00

Toothless

To dream that you are toothless, signifies your inability to reach your goals and advance toward your interests. Gloom and ill health will be part of your setbacks.

I dreamt that I was the one pulling my own teeth.

What's wrong with me.

Canadian.

2009-12-09T14:26:00.002+08:00

So, I just wanted to randomly write a short blog before I head to bed.

I was on the phone the other night and I recited five poems off the top of my head. Sad to say, all five were better than anything I've ever written. Or maybe it's because they were all improvised and made up on the spot. Hm, who knows.

I'm going to rewrite them or something...or start recording what my improvised poems.

Anyways, there's a snow storm happening at the moment. The wind is so strong that I can hear it inside the safety of my room.

Okay, on to dishes, then sleeeep.

I'll be back with some poetry.

Interpretation.

2009-12-08T07:45:00.005+08:00

Self expression's love.
Photography's life.
Writing's inspiration.
Honesty's lies.
Sloth's death.
Gluttony's fear.
Pride's self-esteem.
Lust's joy.
Greed's charity.
Wrath's kindness.
Envy's truth.

They say life is an adventure. But that's just one way to interpret it, is it not?

Lost Inspiration

2009-12-04T17:34:00.001+08:00

I was inspired to continue my previous stories. But youtube distracted me. Curse you Natalie/CommunityChannel. Curse you.

:(

2009-12-03T13:21:00.000+08:00

I need better school habits.

Writing Angrily.

2009-12-02T11:16:00.004+08:00

I don't like you.
That's just stating it lightly.
You piss me off.
And if you're wondering why that might be.
Why don't you take a fucking minute.
Evaluate yourself before you reply.
Thinking you're so slick with your shit talk.
Please.
Keep your childish nonsense to your self.
I couldn't care less about what the fuck happened at some gay ass party you happened to creep into.
And I wasn't eavesdropping.
You're talking so fucking loud, it's hard to not hear you !
You're such a fucking drama queen.
And yes, I know you're a guy.
But you know, I hear shit too.
And from what I hear, you're a fucking queer.
Thinking you're the fucking best out of everyone out there.
Acting like you own the motherfucking place.
Criticizing everyone like you know how everything's suppose to be done.
I'm sick of you looking down on everyone.
Frankly, I'm pissed off about everything you are.
And at least, I won't go talking shit and saying your name out loud, making it everyone else's business.
You're nothing.
You're nothing but a gossiping, cocky son of a bitch who doesn't know when he's crossed the line.
If I had a temper, I would've punched the shit out of you by now.
But quite frankly, I don't give a shit about you.
And sure, go ahead, say that I do give a shit because I posted this post about you.
Well, I just want to straighten every fucking body.
Who thinks I give a shit about what you think about me.
I don't.
Go die.

[note; I was trying to write in another theme, instead of the morbid work of poetry that I am apparently known for. I must admit that I had a few people in mind when I started writing this, but I don't let others bother me, because they're not part of my life to begin wtih, so why care? Anyways, just trying something new for me.]

Monster

2009-12-01T13:16:00.006+08:00

I've been listening to Rafael Casal's The Monster LP, it's by far one of my favourite mixtapes ever because it's about this monster inside us all. And it's really the concept I've wrapped my mind around on, the whole "mankind was born evil, we're only good because we have rules for our society." Anyways, it gave me an idea. I'm going to take a snippet of the song which really spoke to me and use that as my vantage point.

Uhm, that's it for now I suppose.
Can't believe it's december already.
Oh well. Check frequently, though I'm not sure why you would.
I'll be back with some artsy stuff or somethign later.

Layout !

2009-12-01T08:55:00.002+08:00

A new layout, pretty awesome, IMO.
Thanks Karl Nik ! ;)
Uhm, what else.
I guess that's it for now.
Oh, Rafael Casal's mixtape - The Monster - is a pretty sick mixtape.
Almost as dope as Lupe's Enemy of the State mixtape.
Gotta add those to my iPod before the end of tonight.
Hm, that's it for now.
I'm getting hungry, gotta go eat.
Keep checking frequently.
I have an english assignment to write a poem with the same totalitarianism theme as 1984.
It's a challenge, I must say.
And, watch out for Aaron's Life Story.
I'm almost done the rough draft of the story itself.
Hopefully, it'll be as awesome as people highly anticipate it as !

Stay safe.

The Axiom.

2009-11-29T15:22:00.004+08:00

You're special.
And that's only scratching the surface of what I think about you.
There are millions of words in the English dictionary.
And I still can't find the right set of words to explain what goes through my mind when my smile reflects yours.
A million synonyms and antonyms.
And I still can't find the ideal word to describe how beautiful your eyes are, when I find myself lost in them.
A million different combinations of sentences can be formed.
And yet, I still can't find that sentence that would plunge despair, doubt, cynicism, hate and envy out of your vocabulary.
A million thoughts formed in a single second.
But the one thought that I need to perfectly portray the loveliness that I see in you, always alludes me.
It escapes me.
Like the millions of phrases that I wish I could come up with to properly display the attraction that your mind has captured me with.
Billions and millions and thousands of expressions are out there,
Not one of them can depict, in HD quality imagery, the way my heart beats faster when it hears the beat of your heart.
I can't come across a single axiom, or the truth when I try to explain the effects inflicted towards me when I hear the sound your soothing, calming, gentle voice.
It's impossible to explain how my soul smiles when it senses that you are near by.
You're special, and it's difficult to explain what you mean to me.
But some things are better left unexplained.

I Don't Understand

2009-11-26T08:10:00.003+08:00

NOTE: I wrote this about a month ago. I never got around to posting it here. Well, without further ado, enjoy!

I Don't Understand.

I don't understand.
I don't understand how people are always telling me that I'm nice, I'm a good guy, I've got an interesting personality, I've got a brilliant mind and I've got a great smile.
And sometimes, they say I'm hella cute.
And yet, with all those apparent qualities that people see in me,
Why do I end up with friends who become more than friends but in the end, they're nothing but a bunch of...
You might say I'm just bitter.
But because of them my entire life has scars and stitches and each one of them tell a story.
This one, on my right shoulder, was from the time I spent countless hours listening to her because I was a coward.
I took pride that she could cower and take cover on my shoulder and I didn't want to lose that bond with her.
She would always tell me, oh Angelo, why can't I find a guy like you, but you did find a guy like me
I wanted to tell her how I felt, but she just kept on telling me that she wished she could find a guy like me.
She eventually did find a guy like me...
This one, on my left cheek, is from this girl that seemed meek, but she would always flirt with me.
It meant the world to me, but it was worth more to me than it was to her.
Because the minute I felt like we were going steady, her boyfriend punched me across the face.
And when my face took impact with his fist, all I could think about was what did I do to deserve this.
So as I lied flat on my back, with her holding him back, I got up and swung my fist back.
I never spoke to her again.
This one on my right wrist was from the time I fell for lust.
She, grabbed me by the wrist, and we, found a place to ourselves, and I pulled her closer by the hips, and we... kissed.
But we met minutes ago.
I suggested we took things slow.
Start off with a hi, I'm Angelo.
And just, you know, go with the flow?
She got off me and left the room.
She hissed and said she just wanted a one night honeymoon.
Without the matrimony or love in full bloom.
I hope she caught AIDS.
There was the time where this girl left a scar on my back, right behind my spine.
I thought she was mine, and that the whole universe was finally aligned and that everything was finally fine.
But, she would always lie to me.
And I always believed her.
Because I cared for her.
I stood by her side, comforting her when she needs me, always by her side, I was there when she was sick, by her bedside.
She told me that I was the best boyfriend she ever had, and that she never wanted it to end.
But nine weeks in, I found out that she... she...she had... another boyfriend.
I felt betrayed, backstabbed, bamboozled, I was back to square one.
I hope he broke her heart.
I have a scar, in the middle, of my heart.
It hasn't healed yet.
Because she, made me, happy.
Happier than any form of drugs, alcohol or temporary high could bring.
She was my natural high.
Seeing her smile was the drug that I needed to get by, everyday.
We were both busy for one another, but the way we made time for each other was...amazing.
I would pick her up after her work just so I could spend half an hour on the bus with her.
I would wait for her to get off school just so I could walk her home.
We would take the long way getting home whenever we had the chance to go out.
She would leave me voicemail every morning just to remind me that she cares about me.
For Valentine's Day, I bought her a bouquet and went to her place.
Only to find out that she bought me a bouquet and went to my place.
She was really special to me.
So I gave her a gift that I never gave to anyone before.
I gave her something precious to me.
I gave her...
My heart.
Everything was going great, I knew we had something great, but she, broke up, with me.
I didn't know why, and I held in my tears, pride didn't let me cry.
But I was hurt, she broke my self-worth
I became cold, frigid, arctic weather towards any girl trying to get close to me.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't break past what I am.
I'll be forever known as
A nice guy, with a smile that seems to always be there.
I'll always be that guy
with the brilliant mind and a great personality... but maybe... maybe that's my liability.

Breaktime.

2009-11-25T13:58:00.002+08:00

So, I have little faith in myself. I have twelve questions left about the rest of the 1984 novel where I'm only half way through Part One. Due in a matter of hours. Followed by a two short 250 word essays on feeling helpless, and the concept of memory and existence. Along with a poem with the same theme as 1984. These reflection papers are due this friday. Oh joy. Plus, I feel like my teacher's going to kill me tomorrow. Good thing I'm continuing my math where I left off and not from scratch. At least I'm okay with that. I think. NTS: Attend school more frequently. Four times a week, if not five. Fuck me and my school habits. Honestly.

D:<

2009-11-24T13:38:00.001+08:00

I'm so unproductive. FML.

Daydreamin'

2009-11-23T13:40:00.003+08:00

I was up, at three in the morning.
Just sitting on my bed.
With George Orwell's 1984 novel sitting on my lap.
But my eyes weren't anywhere near the font of the book.
Instead, they were staring straight at my beige wall.
My attention focused on a night light shooting star sticker the previous owners had left.
I was up, at three in the morning.
Daydreaming.
Running away from the novel that was assigned to me.
Instead of imagery of Winston Smith, the world he struggles with, and the always watching Big Brother,
My attention focused on a world where there is here and here is there.
I was up, daydreaming.
Inside my own world that I drew and painted.
Where characters from my own ideas evovle into real people that interact with me.
And struggle with me.
Even in my own world, I have problems.
For if it was not for conflicts, our lives would be too quick.
The beige wall helped paint the scene where my mind has taken me.
Clouds colour the sky grey as the sun seeks refuge behind them.
An urban city road filled with busy, shady people.
All keeping to themselves, I sit and observe from a distance.
Some interact with who I presume are their friends and I observe from a distance.
I wish to reach out and interact with the blank faces of those walking by me
But instead, I keep my hands to myself and observe... from a distance.
This distance is killing me, I thought, as I too, yearned for social interaction.
But the distance I've lived with has kept me distant from people.
Unable to connect, to feel, to love, to interact, I keep to myself... and observe... from a distance.
Until this female character sits besides me, and observes the world... with me.
At first, I was confused by this notion as she sat a little too close to me.
She sat down and mimicked my posture as she too hugged her knees.
When she had completely copied how I was sitting, she turned to me, and smiled.
I stared at her, in confusion and curiousity.
She turned back to the crowd and observed.
Even though she was watching from a distance, she didn't have the same cold feeling resonating from her.
I turned back to the crowds, debating why she pulsed a different aura even though we are in a similar situation.
And we watched, from a distance... in silence.
But I wasn't paying attention to the people that interacted with one another.
They became uninteresting once she sat beside me.
I looked into the crowd, but she was the focus of my attention, through the corner of my eye.
She turned her head, back at me, and smiled once again.
We talked, as the people went on about thier day.
I started to feel something strange, in my heart, but I could not describe it.
"It's called love," she said, and described the conditions of this new disease.
She laughed at my reaction, and I blankly stared at her.
Love, I thought to myself.
I turned to the crowd and the blank faces turned to smiles and upside down smiles.
I began to feel what these people are feeling.
And I understood why she didn't have the cold aura resonating from her.
It's because she loves.
And she brought love to my life.
I told her I wished to stay in her presence.
Because I was able to connect, to feel, to love, to interact.
And it was with her help that I was able to do such things.
She smiled, and I realized the stupidity of my request.
It's just a daydream.
I was up, at three in the morning.
Just emerging from the story my mind has brought to life.
With a fresh smile from the feeling that person had given me.
It may have been just a daydream.
But the aura that resonated from her is still with me.
It may have been just a daydream, but that encounter with her, meant the world to me.

Vulnerable.

2009-11-20T17:40:00.004+08:00

What makes you so different?
Cuz you see, I've placed walls that are stacked so high, no one was suppose to see the very top of it.
Not even if you stand right under it and not even if you stood three hundred kilometers away from it.
It's stacked so high that if I made these imaginary walls into something that reality can see...
It would climb higher than the skies could reach, higher than any satellite orbiting the sky, higher than logically possible.
That it would not only disrupt the orbit of Mars, but get past the asteroid belt, hit Jupiter, break off Saturn's rings, fix the spin of Uranus, and hit the blue mass that we call Neptune.
And it wouldn't stop there.
It'd leave our solar system and fuck up the near by system's rotating orbit.
It's built so high that it would reach the end of the universe.
And that's said with the theory that the universe has no end.
But not only did it hit the wall of the universe, but it broke through and who knows what the fuck is outside the universe.
And if it found itself an entrance to a black hole... it would've found the exit.
I know it's not logical, fuck you science. It's called a metaphor.
You could try and dig under, but these walls are dug in deep.
Dug in so deep that I don't even recall when they were being constructed.
Or how deep the hole was when construction was happening.
These walls are so thick that no atomic bomb could be strong enough to decimate it.
So thick that if you used a drill to try and get through to me, you'd have better luck trying to break out from Alcatraz by digging your way out...with a toothpick.
The distance between the outside wall and where I am is so wide that it would be faster if you circled the earth...as a paraplegic... without your wheelchair... terminally ill with lung cancer.
It's the ultimate defense.
So what makes you so different?
You're different because... in my mind, where these walls exist, where I'm in a room where no one has ever stepped foot before... not my family, not my exes, not any of my friends have seen the inside of this room...
But in my mind... you're there... with me.
Telling me that I'm okay, pulling me away from these shackles that we call insecurity.
And I'm amazed that she did not find a monster inside the room, but a friend.
A friend who has been inside that isolation unit for so long, with his insecurity his only company... He's clung onto her, he's become attached.
But that doesn't erase what his past has put him through.
He's scared, he's... anxious. He's unsure.
Making another mistake is something that will definitely close that gap that she managed to find. Because my walls are unbreachable.
Somehow, you've given me the atmosphere that I use to be all too familiar with.
I let my guard down.
You slipped right past that wall.
And if my past came back to haunt me with this new and yet too familiar situation...
I'd blame myself.
For letting my guard down.
I hope you understand the risk I'm taking here...for you.
So what makes you different?
What makes you so different from the others that I've let my guard down in front of?
What differentiates you from the ones that slipped past my defence and stabbed the monster inside?
What makes it different is that I wanted to let my guard down.
Because I'm sick of putting up these walls, just to avoid the hurt, the pain, the emotional tail that follows friendships.
Because, to be honest, I thought you were cute but I didn't let my walls see through just because of that.
Nor does it revolve around that reason.
Because something inside me told me to let you into who I really am.
Because something about you has brought back who I use to be, with a hint of how I am now.
Because for the first time in years, I've let someone know who I am, on the inside.
Something about you made me feel...safe.
I let my guard down, and I'm slowly coming out of my shell.
I feel vulnerable around you.
I feel attached.
I hate it.
But my hate for feeling vulnerable is nothing compared to the smile that I hide from you when I'm around you.
And I hope that feeling never becomes different.

Focus&Fly.

2009-11-20T08:34:00.001+08:00

I need to keep focused.
And get this project lifted off the ground.
But I need food.
I'm starving.
Parents, where are you ! :(

Routine.

2009-11-18T16:08:00.002+08:00

Monday - school, night school, homework.
Tuesday - school, go out, bowling, homework.
Wednesday - school, night school, homework.
Thursday - school, go out, homework.
Friday - school, go out.
Saturday - bowling, go out, homework.
Sunday - go out, homework.

motivation, where are you?
determination, must i always rely on you?
perseverance, why do you have to be the one around?

let's keep focused.

ps.
Eric Blair's life is hella interesting. Makes me want to be a writer now. But I'm not letting go of being a photographer <3

Past-time.

2009-11-14T13:28:00.003+08:00

Dexter - S2E3
House - up to date
HIMYM - up to date
Bones - rewatching
The Mentalist - rewatching
Fringe - up to date
NCIS - up to date
Supernatural - rewatching
Naruto - up to date
Full Metal Alchemist - up to date
Nabari no ou - Ep 5

yeah, i think that's all.
can't help but think i'm missing something.

All I Got

2009-11-12T15:37:00.007+08:00

Is myself.

How to Break a Man - Vince "Tictac" Ticsay

2009-11-10T10:57:00.003+08:00

take away his eyes
no, that'll only make him listen, make him feel past his environment,
make him overlook the horizon and discover what's beyond it,
his mind will intensify, his remaining senses inclining, and and he will see with no eyes.
put a brick wall in front of his blind sight he will work his way around it, over it, or under it,
and he will not break

take away his ears
no that'll make him see with no discrimination,
the world turning revolving and evolving in his position,
he will observe, absorb, and understand with a limitless mind.
he will hear no evil nor good, leaving his limits behind flying over the neutral grounds of wisdom,
and he will not break

take away his strength?
no no for his mind will just grow more powerful beyond its limits,
his intellect will just compensate and work its way through the laws physics,
arithmetic punches and verbal lashings that could destroy a person in pieces, and
he will think and create and destroy soley through his intellect reaching beyond the high infinities of gods
and he will not break

take away his mind
no, for he will only live the simple life of ignorant bliss,
his own stupidity nurturing him from the world's cruel abyss,
his soul maintained in the innocence of morality unaware of mortality his brain will just gain back it's loss of knowledge and
he will not break

so how do you break a man?

you break his heart
the heart that lets him see beyond sight, makes him listen beyond sound, keeps him strong beyond limit, makes him think beyond knowledge.

you take away his heart's passion, the greatest thing his mind, soul and body revolves in,
the definition of his humanity and crush it right between his watered eyes,
and he will not dare seek anything ever again.
and you break his fucking heart

leave him stranded alone in an ocean created by hope with nothing but the company of loneliness,
its soulless whisper of misery will be the only sound he will hear,
and he will wish he could rip his own ears out,
and you break his fucking heart

push him and leave him falling in the bottomless pits of hopeless love, craving for that one hand that could save him from his fate, and he will be weak and pathetic.
his strength will be no avail and its uselessness will only cause him to generate more hate.
and you break his fucking heart

cage him in the darkness alone with the monster called his mind,
and it will chew him alive with the jaws of self-hate and regret, his every second filled with the visions of the past with no love to keep him warm in the coldness of memory.
and you break his fucking heart

how do you break a man
... you break him while falling in love
falling...
falling...
broken..

http://tictactalksandthoughts.blogspot.com

Insecurity.

2009-11-09T11:03:00.001+08:00

Am I special?
I'm an infant playing with toys.
A child learning to play the game.
Just a kid living in a virtual world.
A teen challenging the bounderies of his mind.
Just an eighteen year old holding a controller, exploring the realms of the real world.
See, I'm nothing special.
I'm walking through life, aimlessly.
Trying to decipher the maze inside the mind.
Breathless at the wonders of the free world.
I'm just curious, and I act on it.
So, I'm just an infant, playing with toys.
I'm nothing special.
I'm trying to learn to be the perfect person.
Though I'm failing to even come near that goal.
Because perfection does not exist.
But I still strive to be perfect at what I do.
I'm just a child learning to play the game.
I'm nothing close to special.
I pretend everything's a game.
So that when I get hurt, I just restart.
Except I don't start from the beginning.
I start from where I left off,
Pick up the pieces and move forward.
Playing an RPG and my charisma is my strongest attribute.
Use my smile 'cuz it's my strongest magic
And hope to charm an unsuspecting victim.
I'm just a kid living in a virtual world.
I'm nothing, especially not special.
I'm in love with the human mind.
Only using ten percent, I strive to unlock the other ninety.
Einstein discovered math, and they believed he used eleven percent.
Imagine, the possibilities when one's using all one hundred percent.
But I dabble in first hand experiences.
Experiments, figuring out how it works through experiments.
I'm just a teen challenging the bounderies of his mind.
I'm experimenting with your feelings, is that why you think I'm special?
I'm finally eighteen.
Technically legal.
But I'm still childish.
Immature.
Smiling and laughing like a little kid should.
Making jokes, making those around me smile.
An eighteen year old, with an infant's mind.
Eighteen years of age, with a child's attention span.
Eighteenth year since birth, still a kid at heart.
Eighteen years have passed
I've accomplished nothing
I've let a decade and eight years slip by me.
I'm not special!
That's how the world portrays me.
How jobs and careers and schools show me.
I'm nothing, except another face in the street.
Another body in the city.
Another figure in the shadow of the world.
I'm just somebody else.
I'm easily replaced.
So basically, the entire universe tells me I'm not special.
I'm just another human being.
So please, save your "You are special to me," speech for some other sucker.
Because I know the truth.
I'm just another character.
I'm not special...

Dreams, dreams, dreams.

2009-11-08T14:05:00.002+08:00

So I'll give you a quick run down of my dream.
Throughout the whole thing, cute girls would smile at me, and I'd run.
I blame Imn for this because of what he did earlier today. LOL
Anyways, after a while of that, I was on the subway.
Then I got off at University Station, which doesn't exist, I know.
And the platform was above ground so there was a staircase.
Only after a while, the staircase was broken and became a pile of rocks.
And the pile of rocks turned into a slidy-thing that I couldn't grip on.
So I had to slide the rest of the way.
Then, subway going back was about to go, so I ran for it.
Luckily, and for some strange reason, it wasn't the same height as the subway platform I just got off of.
But it was still higher than me, so I had to jump to get in.
I jumped right before the door closed and everyone in the train was smiling and amused at the fact that I did just jump for a subway.
That's pretty much it.
But there's this cute girl that I kept on seeing.
Sigh, I think it's the same one from today.
The one with the white mushroom cap.
Okay, I'm starting to lose all the details.
That's it, I suppose.
Later.

Loafting.

2009-11-06T13:55:00.001+08:00

Refocus myself.
-School
-Photography
-Poetry
-Stories

I'm on it.

Yellow Submarine.

2009-11-05T12:47:00.004+08:00

While I try to finish my ISU,
I just wanted to leave this for you guys.
Beatles FTW.
If you don't know, you fail.

Major News!

2009-11-05T06:21:00.000+08:00

.lєzαdα,αngelo; nap says (5:15 PM):
i have heard rumours that there's some areas that are open
Alvarado: says (5:15 PM):
really
wow
that better not be true
haha cause thats unfair
.lєzαdα,αngelo; nap says (5:15 PM):
yeah
i'll take my g2
and then you'll take yours
and then we'll burn the motherfucker down!
Alvarado: says (5:15 PM):
hell yeah
haha
.lєzαdα,αngelo; nap says (5:16 PM):
and then some cute asians asks us why we did it, and then we're screwed
Alvarado: says (5:17 PM):
LOL
.lєzαdα,αngelo; nap says (5:18 PM):
Superman's real weakness was not Kryptonite, but in fact, asian girls.
that's why he's never been in Japan.
Alvarado: says (5:19 PM):
HAHA
no wonder no one fought Godzilla
.lєzαdα,αngelo; nap says (5:20 PM):
LMAO word !

With that said,
http://flickr.com/photos/sinematic

fifty new updates for all of you !

Finish Line.

2009-11-04T14:01:00.003+08:00

Slowly but surely, I'll reach the end.
And when it all comes to an end, I'll be wondering how did time slip by me.
What I go through, you may not see it my way, you definitely don't know how I feel.
Put yourself in my shoes? You can't, you'll never see how I think, you'll never feel what I go through. Because I'm not you, I'm different.
So don't belittle my thoughts, I don't need your opinion.
I'm getting tired of you looking down on how I do things.
Just keep your thoughts to yourself, I didn't ask for your opinion.
Certainly not about MY life.

Let's Move On.

2009-11-03T14:54:00.001+08:00

Everyone seems to be growing up, moving on.
I guess it's time for me to pack up and move.
There's not much holding me back.
Yeah, let's get out of here.
Next stop, wherever my imagination takes me.

Horrible.

2009-11-01T14:24:00.003+08:00

My friend keeps telling me I'm horrible on an almost daily basis.
My friend calls me evil at times.
Some people say I'm a very deceitful person.
But I'm human.
I'm also sincere, brutally honest, passionate.
I think those three qualities should outshine my cynical side.
I must admit, I may not be conceited, and sometimes I lack confidence and self esteem, but I am cynical, up to a certain point.
I've gone through a lot, so my kind hearted nature that people keep telling me that I am, which I sometimes disbelieve due to my humble and cynical nature, is hard to reach.
It's buried underneath everything I've gone through.
Also, I've become impatient.
If you don't believe me, I won't waste my time telling you that I really am telling the truth.
I am who I am.
I've accepted myself for who I am.
I'm not going to change for anyone, ever again.
It's a warning, so that when you get close, and you, for some strange reason, fall for me, you'll know what to expect.
Even just befriending me, I don't hide my true colours.
I show them from the first day I'll meet you, to the very last words you'll ever say to me.
I've got trust issues, so you'll have to prove yourself.
I know, you're thinking, who the fuck am I to be saying such things.
If you're thinking that, then... you don't deserve my friendship.
Yes, I said deserve.
I lack self esteem, but I know damn well that I'm a good person.
And that I am worth more than a backstab opportunity waiting to happen.
But if you do manage to pull through, break down all the walls I've placed, walk past every landmine I've planted and look past everything I portray on the outside...
You'll see that inside, lies a soul, who's kind hearted, generous, sincere, honest, passionate, loving, caring, intelligent, interesting, and holds a heart too big for him to hold.
But I promise you, you'll go through hell and back before you ever take a glimpse of that soul, that side of me.
That's why I'm branded as horrible.

Flashbacks.

2009-10-30T13:15:00.003+08:00

Just listening to some old songs.
Takes me back to a couple years back.
Funny how every song holds a certain memory with it.
I guess that helps, cuz I don't try remembering some things.
Really helps when you need to write something.

EDIT.
What she said really took me back to the days where I'd just write all day.

miss sto domingo says (3:20 AM):
Aww I miss your stories!

Yupp.

2009-10-28T21:17:00.000+08:00

This year's been hard,
But at least I know what I am.
And I know where I stand.
I can't say that it's been easy.
But I wouldn't trade what I've been through
Because it's those hardships
That's taken me here.

Write, bitch, right?

2009-10-28T08:12:00.006+08:00

The greatest work of art is the mind.
And like all great works of art, understading them is one of the hardest things to do.
Even trying to understand your own mind.
Trying to unravel the hidden passageways within your brain.
Trying to unlock your potential through opening your mind.
Putting myself through the toughest situations, just so that I can better understand the human mind.
My, oh my, what have I done?
I'm making improvements but it's in the wrong field.
I hope tommorow will brighten my mind.
God knows it's been gloomy inside there.
Well, time to use this thinking into better use.
Time to continue Aaron's life story.
Yessuh, I think it's been a while.

Lately...

2009-10-25T14:43:00.001+08:00

What's kept me going...
I wonder the same thing everyday...

Hm.

2009-10-23T11:59:00.002+08:00

I'm starting to not like what's going on.
Actually, I never did.
But it seems like I just can't get past it.
I'm trying,
I really am,
and I'm starting to hate myself everytime I fail.
It's really hard,
I'm trying to hold on.
I'm trying to pull myself back up.
I'm trying to put myself together again.
I thought I already overcame this entire situation.
I guess not, it was only a temporary fix.
I need to figure this out on my own, again.
I just need to change everything.
Everything has to change.
Everything.

Dreams

2009-10-16T13:40:00.001+08:00

That's where I'm happy. Surprised? I wasn't.

Sigh.

2009-10-16T12:00:00.003+08:00

I can't help but hate myself for my horrible, horrible habits when it comes to school.

I Give Up.

2009-10-15T13:46:00.003+08:00

Not even going to explain.
Cuz you won't understand.
You'll tell me shit that I already know.
You're gonna make me feel worse.
You're not helping.
So fuck off.
Fuck it.
I give up.

See you never.

Yayyy !

2009-10-14T09:24:00.000+08:00

Ameilea says:
hahah aww
seriously, so sweet :)
you made my day

What Motivates You?

2009-10-13T11:46:00.002+08:00

Is it family? Friends? Proving someone wrong?

Whatever motivates you, doesn't motivate me. Because we're different people. So stop trying to use "prove me wrong," as a way to motivate me. I will not go out of my way to change how you think about me, in fact, I don't give a fuck what you think about me.

But I got my motivation, and sometimes, I just forget about them. So FUCK OFF, and give me time to remember.

With that said, I've got an essay to finish, Macbeth to finish reading and an ISU to continue.

Just leave me the fuck alone.

Plans.

2009-10-12T12:23:00.003+08:00

So, I went to the weathernetwork and this was the first thing I saw on their homepage.
Weather Warning
Frost warning for City of Toronto
And it's only October! Can you see the oddness in that weather warning? We've experienced the worst of weathers we can possibly imagine. Not as worse as my fellow Filipinos back home, please pray for them, but it's insane! We've had thunderstorms, tornados, hail, crazy wind, lightning, thunder, and now a frost warning?! All before November?!

Wow, total loaft on this blogpost. Draft autosaved at 1:45 AM, it's currently 2:48AM. Good job youtube. LOL

Okay, so aside from my weather rant, I think this year, what's left of `09, and `10 will be the year when I'll be pushing towards producing what I've wanted. `09 was sort of the thinking process, confirming this is what I really want, and setting up some connections for certain things, don't worry, none of them are illegal. As you know, photography is my passion and my fam from egotistic productions have helped me fuel that for the past year. Ever since Feb 01, I've been learning and hopefully improving in becoming one of the upcoming local photographers. I'm trying to make it big you guys. Become a famous photographer, a photographer at some of the high end fashion scenes, become an overseas journalist or one of my biggest hope is that I'll be taking pictures for National Geographic and things like that. With that said, I'm going to make `10 (it sounds so weird when you read ten, rather than oh nine) the biggest move from local photographer to a region photographer. Work my way out of high school, as I hope that this is going to be my last year in high school, and get into an art school for applied photography so I can work towards getting my bachelors/masters in art & photography. Even if I don't get accepted towards the program I wish to get into, I will not give up photography. It's my passion, I can't let what I love to do go. Even writing's still a part of my life, though not so much creative writing. But blogging still counts as a way to show my love for english. Excuse my spelling and bad grammar. I do have backup choices if fate doesn't hand over photography as soon as I wish it to. Sociology, Psychology, Anthropology, Philosophy are also areas that I'm looking into.

Again, total blankness on this post, five minutes only this time haha.

With all that said, I think I'm going to post on the Egotistic Productions site. Okay, continue the read at
http://egotisticproductions.blogspot.com/
Hope to see you there!

Insight.

2009-10-11T13:29:00.002+08:00

So Aaron Cruz is like my fictional character in my story. When I write, I feel like the stories I weave are real. Therefore, in my mind, Aaron Cruz exists. Am I crazy? Partially. I prefer to be categorized as different, unique, a new breed of writing. Anyways.

The more we go into this, the less we talk. I'm starting to feel like you were right all along and trying to prove you wrong would just end up in me falling flat on my face. So, I'll let the world decide our fate.

Hm, what else.

Go to sleep Kim Liban!

I'm awkward around girls!
LOL hella random.

I'm in need of some sociological insight into certain kinds of people, psychological and anthropological wise too.

Oh, btw, Waking Up is under construction in a sense of it WILL BECOME A SHORT FILM :)
Iris needs to be let out real soon.
and I'm hoping to get some of my creativity let out soon
And last but not least. Aaron Cruz, you're a slick character. Stop hiding from me, I must tell your story.
As an author, my characters come to life. But does that make me crazy, to refer to them as real people?
Okay, it's decided. If I don't get into photography, I'm getting into either Social Worker, Anthropologist, Psycologist, or Sociologist. Done deal !
The mind is the greatest work of art in the history of the universe.

Kay, goodnight.
Sweet dreams,
Kim Liban
Cuz I know you're reading this. LOL

Sigh.

2009-10-08T13:02:00.002+08:00

I'm stressed. So I figure I'd let some of that out through this. Seeing as nothing else has remotely worked. Okay, let's start off with school. Nothing's the problem, everything's going good, for once. Trying to keep it like that but I'm not sure if it'll stay like that for long. I've been stressed, and I took a day off today to relax and take some time for myself. I'm starting to slowly walk back into that state where I was six months ago.

As you may or may not know, I just turned eighteen almost a month ago. As great as it is, finally being able to buy lottery and being considered legal, it really isn't that much different. I feel the stress more and I think I'm just suppose to bear with it and do what I can. No more complaining, asking for help, because I'm eighteen. I gotta hold my own, because the future only gets harder. I'm glad for those who are there for me, never going to take them for granted. And with that said, I couldn't have asked for better friends or family. These past eighteen years have been nothing but a great learning experience and I'm blessed to have such wonderful people surrounding me. Thanks.

I think I'm more self aware now. I think... I'm going through more than I realize. But it's good to know I have people to count on.

I think...he's catching feelings for her. If he does like her, and she likes him back, I don't think he's going to ask her out. I think he'd just want to keep their friendship where it is, and wouldn't want to ruin a great thing. I told him that's the smart thing to do, I hope he listens. You hear that? I know you're reading this. I HOPE YOUR LISTENING TO ME.

Uhm, comment on my pictures at alezada0920.mpchallenge.com It's a metro photography competition. I gave it my all, handed in my best work IMO. And all I can do now is hope that my work is noticed by the judges. If they don't notice it, no biggie. I know I'm talented, and I won't let a simple competition put me down. I'm just gonna work harder to get even better and take next year by storm.

Okay, that's enough blogging.

School, life, photo, writing, it's so hard to balance you all. But I'm trying.

Until next time !

Life's Mysteries - Introduction

2009-09-30T13:02:00.002+08:00

My story follows the life of Aaron. I'll portray Aaron fighting against his addictions and psychological occurdences that disturb his daily life. Suffering from an inability to grasp reality and the creation of his own mind merging with what he thinks is real, he begins to lose his grip on reality. Looking for professional aid, he encounters characters that push him to his limit. His hope is that he overcomes this psychological dilemna and can live his life normally.

So this is the background story into my ISU that I'm doing for english, hope you look forward to it ! :)

Confused.

2009-09-29T12:27:00.003+08:00

what i want is something so surreal
So unthinkable
I don't think it's even possible for me to find it in this lifetime.
What i yearn for is something possible,
And yet it feels like it's out of my reach.
What i want is perfection
But how do i find perfection when I myself am not perfect?
I am not satisfied with my best efforts
But I give up oh so easily.
What is one to do?
I'm so confused.

:')

2009-09-27T07:37:00.002+08:00

:')
It was one view away from 500, but i don't think it's ever hit that high. Thanks guys ! :)

Human.

2009-09-23T09:31:00.002+08:00

Our success lasts for a while
But failure scars you forever

--------------------------------

I have goals
I have dreams
I have hopes
I have faith
I feel pain
I feel jealousy
I feel envy
I feel hurt
I know love
I know hate
I know loneliness
I know passion
I am smart
I am passionate
I am honest
I am human

What hurts us, makes us stronger.
What breaks us, stirs our passion.
What pains us, gives us life.
Our flaws makes us unique.
Where we fail, defines our humanity.
Where we succeed, defines our weakness.
Because imperfection is being humane.
Humanity is about imperfection.
Being imperfect makes us perfect.

Just my two cents.

You.

2009-09-22T12:06:00.003+08:00

You're concieted as fuck, but you've got self-esteem issues.
You know you're not the best person, yet you act like you are.
You know she deserves better, so you act like there is no one better.

Tim Gunn!

2009-09-21T12:40:00.003+08:00

He's officially in the list of people I HAVE TO MEET. :)
And someone I idolize, not because he's a well reknowned fashionista, but also because he's so upfront and blunt and the way he is.
Tim Gunn, I wish I could photograph your work :(

Uhm..

2009-09-20T23:30:00.002+08:00

Happy Birthday to me :)
Thanks for the greets you guys ! : D

Story Starter

2009-09-18T11:25:00.002+08:00

He wished the phone would stop ringing. It’s been a week since he broke up with Ally. It’s as if she refused to believe that he actually broke up with her. They’ve been together for almost two years, but Aaron felt like he was missing a lot in life. Whenever he’d go to parties, he would have a conscience that would prevent him from making out with a girl he had just met. Over the last seven months, he had found out things about Ally that would make any self respecting boyfriend to break up with his girlfriend. Many people often wondered why Aaron would give Ally so many undeserving chances.
“You have three unheard messages, check unheard messages; press one.” Only three? She’s called over fifteen times and she only left three? Hesitant, he pressed one. “First message, ‘Aaron, I know you didn’t mean those things you said. I know I’ve said some things and I’m not the best girlfriend, but I love you, I care for you. Please, call me back so we can talk about this. We can make this work,’” Aaron pressed the number seven key, “Message deleted. Second message, ‘Aaron, I’m really sorry for everything, I know now how much—‘message deleted.”
Aaron was about to hang up, she’s been calling nonstop for the past two days but he figured he might as well delete the last message. “Third message, ‘Is this Aaron?’” It was a different voice; he was startled because he was expecting his ex-girlfriends. “’This is Elsa, from Chemistry third period? Our professor gave me your phone number. I was wondering if you still needed a partner...” Aaron’s mind stopped paying attention to the recorded message. He was trying to figure out who she was. Her name sounded familiar, but he had never looked at anyone when he was with Ally, not that he needed to. Ally was every guy’s dream girl, physically of course. But that’s not why he started dating her. He went out with her because she was interesting, different, independent and unique. But ever since summer, she became clingy, paranoid and dependant. She would be mad at him for talking to other girls, make a scene when a girl would attract his attention at the mall, and would ignore him for weeks when he forgot to call. She had him on a strict leash, but he endured it, until, of course, the day of their breakup, “...so call me back when you can. Thanks.” Aaron called her back without giving it a second thought.
Time flew by and it’s been over a year since Aaron broke up with Ally. He hasn’t had a missed call from Ally in a while and he was getting closer to Elsa. He even suspected that Elsa might have been attracted to him, but he placed that silly notion behind him. You’re just being too confident now, he would remind himself.
“What’s wrong Aaron?” Elsa and Aaron would spend most of their time together, studying or just hanging out. Today, they’re just sitting at a park bench, enjoying the view. Aaron enjoyed his time with Elsa but there was something about Elsa that reminded him of Ally, the way she talked, the way she thinks about things, the way she reacts to certain conversations. Elsa seemed to be too similar to Ally. He would’ve asked Elsa out if it wasn’t for that.
“Oh nothing, did I tell you how you remind me of my ex-girlfriend?” He found himself shocked that those words came out of his mouth.
“Really? So that means I’m your type?” She was trying to hide her cheeks turning rosy red.
“Why are you blushing for?” Aaron took that blush to confirm she was attracted to him.
“I think it’s quite obvious, don’t you?” Now he knew he wasn’t just being confident. But how was he supposed to let her know that he’s still not ready? After what Ally placed him through, he didn’t think he can ever trust someone at that intimate level.
“I don’t want a relationship...with you.” Again, Aaron found himself bewildered at what he just said. It’s as if his mind didn’t even want to sugar coat what he’s about to say.
“What?” She moved away from him. She didn’t know how to react. No one’s ever said that to her. “Do you not find me attractive?”
“You’re beautiful, but I just don’t think we should be in a relationship together.”
“Why not!” She was starting to cause a scene, and even though it was at the park, there were a lot of people walking by.
“Because, I told you, you remind me of my ex-girlfriend!”
“What’s wrong with Ally? She may have cheated on you, but she’s miserable when you’re not around! She loves you...”
“Elsa... how did you know Ally cheated on me? I never told you how we broke up. In fact, I’ve never mentioned her name to you.” Elsa looked like she was searching her brain for an answer, but Aaron was freaked out. He has never talked about Ally to Elsa, let alone why they broke up. “Elsa, answer me! How do you know that?”
“You... you told me.” She was stuttering, her eyes were desperate to find a more solid answer. Aaron’s eyes widened like he just solved a cold case with finding the final clue right in front of him. He fell quiet and stared at the horizon. “Aaron?” He flashed a smile and chuckled.
“I never did get over you, Ally.”

*wrote this for my english homework. I had to start the story with the first sentence that the story started with.*

Words of Wisdom?

2009-09-17T12:27:00.000+08:00

she said (12:21 AM):
help ya get the girl you want
and im saying this as a friend btw
you come off as to easy
dont let girls know
you want them
like little jokes like that
cause they know its not a joke\
next
she said (12:22 AM):
if you keep asking the girl if she misses you or likes you
then she might get turned off cause it gets irritating
she said (12:23 AM):
if she misses you\
she will tell you
and last but not least
girls like the chase
even though we say we hate it
secretly we love it
love how we can't get that guy
\
she said (12:24 AM):
nothinng against you
.lєzαdα,αngelo; hmwrk says (12:25 AM):
haha,
.lєzαdα,αngelo; hmwrk says (12:26 AM):
interesting.
she said (12:26 AM):
i know
trust
youll get so many girls
if you follow that

Libraries are fun !

2009-09-17T10:00:00.000+08:00

Find me in the library studying,
Or out in the streets hustling
Making a living, hella focused now.
I only have myself to blame if it all falls down
But it wont, I've lifted off, I ain't going back down.
Cuz I've touched the sky, and I don't see the ground
All I see is clouds, and that's how it's gonna stay.
I'm reaching my goals, I don't care what you have to say.
Got my eyes on the prize, I'm leaving you behind.
And your lies can't hide me from claiming what's mine.
Say what you want, it'll fuel my determination.
I don't care what you say, like a terrorist interrogation.

Schoool!

2009-09-16T13:13:00.002+08:00

So I've been busy with school lately.
I actually didn't do much homework today.
I wasn't in the writing mood.
On the bright side, I have english this semester.
And most of the work involves creativity and imagination.
My forte, I suppose.
Anyways, for now, I'll post up my work that I've submitted (not homework, but poetry and whatnots when my class gets to that chapter)

BUT I did hand in Waking Up for my first short story. I got a 20/20 from it and my teacher thought it was a well written story. But I got deducted two marks for not following rules. So I ended up with an 18/20. I forgot to double space and my work was over the 2-4 pages limit. But I'll pay that two point deduction for a chance for people to read my work.

Anyways, Goodnight world.

Time's Ticking.

2009-09-13T12:38:00.003+08:00

I'm affectionate, but you're starting to get on my nerves.
Seriosuly, I'm getting sick of putting more effort than you.
Real talks, you're time's ticking.

FYI

2009-09-07T12:04:00.001+08:00

If you're looking for a man to hold you down
I'm not that person
If you're looking for a guy to flatter you
I'm not that person
If you're looking for a person to be there for you all the time
I'm not that person
If you're looking for a human being who's nice and kind
I'm not that person
If you're looking for a person to talk to about life
I'm not that person
Because I'm not a person
I'm something else.
I'm me.

Muskoka

2009-09-07T04:20:00.002+08:00

Just got back from there, I gotta admit, it's pretty chill there. Might wanna go cottage-ing there with friends next year.

I just wanted to tell you guys, whoever still reads this, that yes, I'm still alive. I'm working (kinda) on three albums of photos, so look forward to that. But on a random note.

"It's hard dating a slut, just ask my girlfriend."

Kaythxbai.

Two Years.

2009-09-03T13:51:00.002+08:00

Two years of my life went by
And this right here, is a testimony that time does fly by.
Looking back through pictures, reminding myself
Those who were there and who stayed around to help
From my days at ward, to libermann, to fraiser and now
Wondering how did 730 days fly by without me hearing a sound
From the ground's perspective, nothing's changed.
If it wasn't for pictures, I wouldn't have noticed my physical features been rearranged.
From my hairstyle to my clothing wear, to the glasses I need
To the way I speak, the people I meet and what I believe.
To my hopes and dreams, goals and my future for when I'm grown
But at least now, I'm sure that I'll do good on my own.
From the crew I chill with, to the boys I kick with
From the way I think, to the way I spit.
I've changed, and it's laughable how
I always said I'll never be that, look at me now.
From a nice guy, to a flirt, to a falling for the wrong types
To a heart breaking motherfucker, to a I can get any girl hype
From a I'm not good enough to I'm too cute for that chick
From a I hope she'll chill with me, to a there's too many of them on my dick
From a ride or die kinda guy to a don't bring your fucking drama here
But I'll still ride or die for family, that's still the same from two years.
From a nerdy child, eager to learn and looking forward to his career
It was worthwhile, to learn to burn and handle a few beers.
I still know where I'm heading, I havent lost sight
But now, I can say that I'll actually put up a fight.
I'm a different man, not a kid anymore, all grown up.
An indifferent man, who don't kid anymore, life's been tough.
I'm not as caring as I use to be, I actually don't give a fuck.
And I'm not acting tough, sometimes, I just don't give a fuck.
I'm more passionate, believer in fate, and I do fuck around.
But I'm more caring, especially those who's still holding me down.
You know who you are, it's been a long motherfucking journey.
From the minute we met, who knew we'd end up chilling like family.
Egotistic Productions, all day, don't sleep on us now.
That's family right there, two years in the making, we're world bound.
Perfecting our skills like the blades ninjas assassinate with
We growing big, growing up, you better know who you're fucking with.

SINematic

07-09
Egotistic Productions
Two years in the making.
We're working on it.

What's really good?

2009-09-02T11:25:00.004+08:00

Summer is coming to an end, and I'll be spending the rest of my summer in a cottage. I'm kinda excited, I'm hoping to do all the things that I barely get to do, like fishing or canoe-ing.

But today, I went out to take pictures of Beautee's dance crew. I must admit, a lot of them ended up pretty dope. I think I'm going to have a hard time picking which ones not to upload.

I'm kinda sad that I havne't done any writing lately. I think I'm loafting on that creative outlet of mine. Don't worry, I'll be back on it real soon.

But on the bright side, I'm going to end up spending a whole week with Iris. <3

*eighteleven <3

._.

2009-08-27T12:06:00.002+08:00

Maybe I do need a girlfriend who lives closer to me.

Me Too.

2009-08-24T07:22:00.002+08:00

She said ; "she doesn't know what she wants..."

I replied ; "you want perfection, but you don't know what perfection is, therefore, you don't know what you want."

I feel the same way.

Conversation with i

2009-08-23T10:32:00.007+08:00

I write to give my creativity a voice,
I fight against what seemingly looks like better choice,
And despite all the negativity, I'm sticking with my choice.
Because I've surgically removed that inside noise.
That prideful voice that keeps me on the path to heaven.
It's like I'm playing Russian roulette and I'm number seven.
I can't lose, yet I know I don't want to win.
But I've already called the bet, and the other gambler called all in.
Called his bluff, that's another player out,
But I'm not done until my luck heads south.
Or I win it all, there's no going back now.
But my decisions aren't my own because karma around.
Karma's my bestfriend, she's got me on speed dial.
But I thought we lost contact, she hasn't called in a while.
I've changed, yet Karma wants me to stay the same.
But Guilt is alive and is still in the assassinating game.
It's plain to see that I'm trying to keep away
From Karma, and everything she has to say.
Stay away from temptation, retire my jersey.
I thought that retirement would be the key.
But Karma's testing me, proving I'm still the same.
And I know that if I give in, I'll be the one to blame.
But I know I'm stronger, I know I can last.
It's just that, if you look at my past,
My record is short of perfection like oompa loompas.
Girl hopping quickly like Mario hopping on goombas.
Breaking innocence like Usain Bolt breaking records.
Everyone wished me luck in my endeavor.
Left when I was severed, hoping to come back in one piece.
Mastering the way to find that inner peace, tamed that evil beast.
The monstrosity that has me considering temptation.
That has me walking towards my own obliteration.
What do I do now.
I can't do anything, because I'm already hell bound.

Tipseee

2009-08-22T14:58:00.002+08:00

I'm kinda out of my mind.
Feeling tipsy,
so I'll just drop by
say hello, how are you
and then say have a great night, sweet dreams.

Hope y'all are doing well.
I'm a bit smashed, but I thought I might update.

Fiending some of that.
Sinematic.

christine !

2009-08-18T14:56:00.003+08:00

I'm back!
Just updated my flickr page, go check it out.
After a ten day hiatus, I got my priorities straight, and my focus focused. Anyways, this is what made my night, I thought I'd share it with you guys.
I'm back, now, go check out my flickr page. I took ten days off this place just for you guys and those photos,
Okay, I lie, but hey, it's the thought that counts.
I've been hella busy, but here you go !

http://flickr.com/photos/sinematic

christine ! says (1:17 AM):
aww angelo you're so good
and so passionate
i'm happy for you
christine ! says (1:22 AM):
haha no but srsly i'm so happy for you that you've found somethingyou love. instead of wasting yoru life on the itnernet liek me. haha. it's good your'e making something of your talent and really expressing yourself through art
i admire that, srsly.
christine ! says (1:43 AM):
nah, angelo. you're lucky you're not having to deal with a disease or loss.
and you should take the depression you feel and turn it into positive energy that you use to move forward in your life.
christine ! says (1:44 AM):
as long as you're living there's always hope for change and improvement. no matter how screwed up things might get there will always be hope to change things as long as you're alive. the only thing that can ever stop you from achieving your dreams if death. other than that anything is possible. truly.
christine ! says (1:45 AM):
and you're young. you've got a long ways to go. i knwo you'll be able to clena up whatever mess there is and start over and be happy.
christine ! says (1:46 AM):
just keep at it and be strong and positive. there's no reason why things won't get better. as long as you strive to make it better.the strife you're going through right now will only make the victory sweeter. and things will be alright. you can trust in that because God's with you and God's already won it all
just keep on keeping on and be patient with your life. good things come to those who wait. you're happiness is coming, angelo. whatever's happening right now is just preparing you for it.
christine ! says (1:47 AM):
and don't forget to pray.

Find Me.

2009-08-06T12:28:00.005+08:00

Because I got other things to focus on for now.

Yellow Brick Road

2009-08-06T10:43:00.002+08:00

Lemme tell you a story that happened to me.
When I was just seventeen, and I was beginning to see
The difference between wrong and right, strong and might
Weak and pathetic, meek and aesthetic, so it was like
One day, monday, midnight morning, thoughts concerning
What it would be like if I had traded this passion burning
Inside me, but my pride see, won't let me talk to the wizard of oz
But if I was walking down the yellow brick road, I'd ask for balls
To see what would happen if instead of fappin' it's a different chick
Every night on my dick, without a concern for anything except to stick
It in her, even if her mouth said no, I would've told her so
Ignored her answer and just let the vodka in her start to flow
Taken advantage of the fact that she's slow to react
So I'm not really asking for balls, but for a stack
Of conscious killing mechanisms that will cause a schism
In my mind so I won't feel guilt when I speak a lie
To a chick that might be willing to die
For a guy that I've described myself as who I am
And then wake up to an empty bed, thinking to themselves damn
How could they let themselves be taken advantage of
But I have a vantage point, a quick mind, slick lines, to take your clothes off.
And you won't know until it's too late, except I
Tried to keep you away from spending too much time
With someone like I, because that's how I am
This is my hidden secret between me and my fam
And they tease me consistantly for my consistancy
Of chicks on the side, and laughs when they see her with me
Because they know the truth under the blanket
And there's not one chick I've met that's not set
On avoiding getting close, because an overdose
Of my personality will cause anyone's innocence to be lost.

=D

2009-08-05T11:56:00.005+08:00

(:

2009-08-03T12:33:00.003+08:00

What's less than three ?

2009-08-01T16:20:00.003+08:00

What is less than three?
It's two, one, zero.
It's you plus one fear of less than three.
And we battle this fear, with an imaginary spear.
Trying to steer our life towards a love so clear,
That the waters of the world will envy at the clarity of this.
But bliss is found in ignorance, and everything else is useless.
Because we depend on bliss or someting worth less than three
Or else our lives feel empty without ignorance or being with she
Or he, but why are we even considering the worth of less than three?
Less than three IS worth less than three
Because you cannot sell it, it does come for free
But holding onto that is the hardest thing in the known universe.
Except for having the worst situation and making it worse.
Or trying not to reimburse when someone says you're worth less than three.
True love is less than three, regardless if it came for free.
Less than three is so hard to explain, because it's different.
For me, for you, for her, for him, but don't be indifferent.
To the fact that every act of less than three is not like your own.
It's as unique as the atmosphere of your family's home.
And as I write on, I begin to realize that I've gone
To a place where less than three, really means less than three.
And I'll be a hypocrite if I didn't think less than three is worthless.
Because I think to myself often, nothing could be worth this.
Less than three is a complicated situation to explain.
We've felt its presence, through love and through pain.
Sometimes we feel like it isn't worth the injury.
Because in the end, it's still worth less than three.