He woke up looking at the dark sky. It was evening and the stars were beautiful. He could see the street lights glitter. He wanted to stand up but he couldn't. He couldn't feel anything. He knows his limbs are still with him yet he couldn't tell them to help him up. He tried to move his arms. Same thing. After a couple of tries, he stopped trying. He liked the view anyway. What are the chances of you laying in the middle of the street during rush hour and marveling at the beautiful sky and get away with it, he thought. Good thing he could still move his eyes. For a moment he wondered. He just didn't understand why.
Shattered glass lay everywhere, even on him. His clothes are torn. His face is ripped with wounds. A puddle of blood formed just behind his neck down his back. He could feel it. he knows he is dripped yet he doesn't know what it was made of. He could smell the stench of rust and burning gasoline up his nostrils down his lungs. He could hear but with a faining ring in his eardrums.
"I didn't touch him!i was driving right behind him and it just..." the woman stopped and just burst into tears and disappeared into her car.
A focused light suddenly flashed before his eyes with a faint face of a man behind it.
"Buddy! Can you hear me? Don't move. I'm a dcotor."
The man whose face he didn't recognize told him. Believe me I tried moving, he thought. the man shoved his penlight back into his breast pocket and felt his pulse.
Another woman ran towards them. "let me help! I'm a nurse!"
She took off her jacket and made an improvized c-collar and gently placed it behind her neck, carefully as she could just like an expert.
"You have a phone?" the doctor asked. "I already called."
"what's your name?"
"Lila!"
"Lila, my name is Sam. I'm a doctor."
"Buddy! Can you tell me your name?"
He tried to answer. He wasn't surprised that he failed again. He was getting used to the feeling. The doctor searched for his pocket and found a wallet. as he opened it, a glass fell from it.
His name was Henry dawson, 21 years old who lives uptown.
"Henry, my name is Sam and I'm a doctor. I have Lila with me. She is a nurse. I want you to look at her and stay with her."
"Lila, stay with him as I check on the others."
The doctor went to the wrecked car and check on two women and a man who lay lifeless inside the carnaged coffin. A woman of her twentys has half her body through the windshield and into the dashboard. No pulse. The doctor could tell that she had a beauty much like of Naomi Watts before she was shoved into her state. The remaining two, both man and woman, elderly, were tucked at the back seat. No pulse as well.
Sam went back to Henry and Lila.
"He is loosing a lot of blood and his pulse slowing down." declared Lila.
"Where is the fucking ambulance!"
A crowd gathered around the scene watching in horror as the doctor and nurse trie to save the life of the boy. Some were crying. a couple were hugging each other as most of them offered a prayer of their own to pull this kid out of this misery.
"Forgive me. Forgive me."
Henry mustered with all his might. It felt like a scream to him yet it only came out as a whisper, barely audible for everyone to hear.
"It wasn't your fault. I was driving right behind you when your front tire blew." Lila said in a much comforting voice.
He tried once again to move. Much to his surprise he could. He felt the gravel under his hands. He was trying to look for something. Sam noticed this and looked at his hand. He was surprised to see a ring near Henry's pocket. It must have been what fell from his wallet, Sam thought. Sam then helped him and put the ring in his hand.
"Will you marry me? Will you marry me Athena?" Henry asked while looking at Lila.
Both Sam and Lila had question marks on their faces. Both then looked at the carnaged car at looked at the girl in the front seat, shoved into the windshield.
"Will you marry me?", he asked again as more blood flowed. his pulse failing him.
"Yes. I will" Lila replied as tears flowed down her cheeks.
Henry smiled as he finally was able to ask the question to his love. It was Athena he saw saying it as stars danced in the sky behind her. How lovelier could the moment be.
And Henry took his last breath.
14 December 2009
26 November 2009
Forbidden IV
Eric missed his 7:30am bus. He didn't have a clue how that would change his life. He had to take the 8:00am bus to work. It was not the best situation he would want to get himself into; late for his court hearing and his client has been ringing his phone like crazy. The judge isn't going to like his late for bus excuse as well. There was nothing he could do anyway.
Aboard the bus, he was reading a ton of papers stuffed in his suit case when the a man approached him. "That would be twenty mister." He then realized that he didn't have any stash with him. He left his wallet. Not a single cent with him. He only had his credit card with him. Of course, no bus would be willing enough to accept a swipe.
"I think I left my wallet." He didn't have any other words to say as the man looked at him blankly.
"We've heard that excuse a number of times already mister. It's either you pay up or off the bus."
"I'll pay for him.", the woman in front of his seat suddenly declared.
"Excuse me?", Eric asked. "You really don't have to", he added.
"I'll pay. I don't want any ruckus happening. And I wouldn't want to be late for work if they have to stop to kick you off."
The man made no objection and got the twenty from her. Eric, stumped, moved right beside the woman as the man continued his collection with the other passengers.
"I'll pay you back."
"Let me see. Twenty? I think I have enough for me to not to starve. I think I can manage.", the woman said as she continued going through her magazine.
Eric immediately noticed how beautiful and attractive the woman was. Her legs were crossed in a pencil skirt, showing her as white as snow legs. He really didn't have anything else to say. He remained quiet in the last fifteen minutes of the ride. Finally, the bus reached its destination.
"Is this your daily bus?", Eric inquired. "If you take this same bus tomorrow, you will know."
Eric took the 8:00am bus the next day, not a good idea for him as he will be again be bombarded with questions and demands for explanation from his client and the judge, not to mention the firm he works for. For some reason, he thought that paying the little money he owed is more important than his job. And he wasn't disappointed. The same girl who saved him the previous day was there. Seated in the same place. He sat beside her.
"I guess I now have an answer to my question yesterday."
The woman just smiled as she turned her attention from her magazine she held in her hands to him. Eric reached for his wallet.
"Here you go. Thank you.", as Eric handed her the twenty.
"Is that your daughter?", she asked. Eric gave a puzzled look.
"I'm sorry. I just saw a picture of a lovely girl in your wallet."
"Oh, her?", as he realized that she was talking about the kid in his wallet. "She is actually my niece. I'm taking care of her since her father passed away.", he declared.
"That is sweet.", a lovely light suddenly brightened up her face as she said those words.
"You have a kid of your own?", Eric thought of throwing a question as he thought it was the polite thing to do.
"In fact I do." She reached for wallet in her purse and showed him the picture of a little girl closely resembling the woman's angelic face. No doubt it was her daughter.
"She is lovely. I think I know where she got it from. My name is Eric"
She answered with a shy smile. She extended her hand to him. "April."
Aboard the bus, he was reading a ton of papers stuffed in his suit case when the a man approached him. "That would be twenty mister." He then realized that he didn't have any stash with him. He left his wallet. Not a single cent with him. He only had his credit card with him. Of course, no bus would be willing enough to accept a swipe.
"I think I left my wallet." He didn't have any other words to say as the man looked at him blankly.
"We've heard that excuse a number of times already mister. It's either you pay up or off the bus."
"I'll pay for him.", the woman in front of his seat suddenly declared.
"Excuse me?", Eric asked. "You really don't have to", he added.
"I'll pay. I don't want any ruckus happening. And I wouldn't want to be late for work if they have to stop to kick you off."
The man made no objection and got the twenty from her. Eric, stumped, moved right beside the woman as the man continued his collection with the other passengers.
"I'll pay you back."
"Let me see. Twenty? I think I have enough for me to not to starve. I think I can manage.", the woman said as she continued going through her magazine.
Eric immediately noticed how beautiful and attractive the woman was. Her legs were crossed in a pencil skirt, showing her as white as snow legs. He really didn't have anything else to say. He remained quiet in the last fifteen minutes of the ride. Finally, the bus reached its destination.
"Is this your daily bus?", Eric inquired. "If you take this same bus tomorrow, you will know."
Eric took the 8:00am bus the next day, not a good idea for him as he will be again be bombarded with questions and demands for explanation from his client and the judge, not to mention the firm he works for. For some reason, he thought that paying the little money he owed is more important than his job. And he wasn't disappointed. The same girl who saved him the previous day was there. Seated in the same place. He sat beside her.
"I guess I now have an answer to my question yesterday."
The woman just smiled as she turned her attention from her magazine she held in her hands to him. Eric reached for his wallet.
"Here you go. Thank you.", as Eric handed her the twenty.
"Is that your daughter?", she asked. Eric gave a puzzled look.
"I'm sorry. I just saw a picture of a lovely girl in your wallet."
"Oh, her?", as he realized that she was talking about the kid in his wallet. "She is actually my niece. I'm taking care of her since her father passed away.", he declared.
"That is sweet.", a lovely light suddenly brightened up her face as she said those words.
"You have a kid of your own?", Eric thought of throwing a question as he thought it was the polite thing to do.
"In fact I do." She reached for wallet in her purse and showed him the picture of a little girl closely resembling the woman's angelic face. No doubt it was her daughter.
"She is lovely. I think I know where she got it from. My name is Eric"
She answered with a shy smile. She extended her hand to him. "April."
Forbidden III
Eric now sits on a bench against a wall, his back rested against it. He looked like a man who has survived a tornado attack in Texas. His suit, which looked impressive, powerful, neatly pressed, just hours ago is now like a wardrobe taken out from a pile of dirty laundry. It was now a darker shade. April's blood has dried. From one look, you would think he was the one shot or stabbed.
His once finely combed hair is now gone. He looked like he has just woke up from a nightmare, thankful for the awakening yet not since he just woke up to live in another nightmare. April was shot.
The hospital was filled with a murky stink of air mixed with chemicals meant to keep sterility. He thought how the mix of stench in the air represented how life and death meet in this place; the stench of blood and pukes for death and the stinging scent of life. It gave him a chilling feeling.
From his bench, just outside April's room - 203 - he waits; uncertain of what's going to happen next. To his right was the hallway leading to the elevator. To his left was another hallway, leading to the nurse's station. There was only one nurse left to man the station since the rest are busy attending to other patients, most of them were from the same restaurant wherein he had a dream that turned to a nightmare. A small TV played, and he could hear it from his place. It was the flash news special edition. One of those news programs that cuts of any show in the middle of it when something exciting happens. Poor Will & Grace.
Richard Gammon, he was the madman who just barged into the restaurant and shot everyone in sight to his satisfaction. Then a mugshot of the man was shown on the screen. He has been arrested multiple times for robbery and other offenses and has been rehabbed for drug addiction three times. That night was one of the nights wherein sanity has left him because of pot. According to the report, he was high on dope in an alley at the back of the restaurant. He sneaked his way into the kitchen and stabbed a couple of cooks, two of the five were critical. He then went to the main lobby through the kitchen door and started shooting on sight with a gun that he got from the streets. One of the security personnel, MIB he thought, shot him in the head causing instant death.
Photos of the victims were then flashed, one after the other. Short stories of their lives unfold before everyone glued to the boob tube. And then there was April, beautiful as ever in her photos that one could not imagine how she suffered such ordeal. He even started to wonder how they got a quick biography of her life.
April, 27 years old, married to a pilot of a popular, big time airliner. She has become successful in her chosen field of Law. She usually works with women and children's rights protection. The repart says, she was in business meeting with his partner Atty. Eric Maxwell at the time of the shooting.
As the reporter started to narrate the police’s additional findings in the case, the nurse turned the television off. It was a deafening silence. Nothing could be heard in the hallway that even a single drop of a needle would resound with such power and might in the place. It is now 1:32am, the clock hanging on the wall says. Eric never really noticed the time. He just realized that it’s been almost four hours since April was rushed to the hospital from a circus of events that left no one smiling. He felt his consciousness flee him. Then there was darkness.
His once finely combed hair is now gone. He looked like he has just woke up from a nightmare, thankful for the awakening yet not since he just woke up to live in another nightmare. April was shot.
The hospital was filled with a murky stink of air mixed with chemicals meant to keep sterility. He thought how the mix of stench in the air represented how life and death meet in this place; the stench of blood and pukes for death and the stinging scent of life. It gave him a chilling feeling.
From his bench, just outside April's room - 203 - he waits; uncertain of what's going to happen next. To his right was the hallway leading to the elevator. To his left was another hallway, leading to the nurse's station. There was only one nurse left to man the station since the rest are busy attending to other patients, most of them were from the same restaurant wherein he had a dream that turned to a nightmare. A small TV played, and he could hear it from his place. It was the flash news special edition. One of those news programs that cuts of any show in the middle of it when something exciting happens. Poor Will & Grace.
Richard Gammon, he was the madman who just barged into the restaurant and shot everyone in sight to his satisfaction. Then a mugshot of the man was shown on the screen. He has been arrested multiple times for robbery and other offenses and has been rehabbed for drug addiction three times. That night was one of the nights wherein sanity has left him because of pot. According to the report, he was high on dope in an alley at the back of the restaurant. He sneaked his way into the kitchen and stabbed a couple of cooks, two of the five were critical. He then went to the main lobby through the kitchen door and started shooting on sight with a gun that he got from the streets. One of the security personnel, MIB he thought, shot him in the head causing instant death.
Photos of the victims were then flashed, one after the other. Short stories of their lives unfold before everyone glued to the boob tube. And then there was April, beautiful as ever in her photos that one could not imagine how she suffered such ordeal. He even started to wonder how they got a quick biography of her life.
April, 27 years old, married to a pilot of a popular, big time airliner. She has become successful in her chosen field of Law. She usually works with women and children's rights protection. The repart says, she was in business meeting with his partner Atty. Eric Maxwell at the time of the shooting.
As the reporter started to narrate the police’s additional findings in the case, the nurse turned the television off. It was a deafening silence. Nothing could be heard in the hallway that even a single drop of a needle would resound with such power and might in the place. It is now 1:32am, the clock hanging on the wall says. Eric never really noticed the time. He just realized that it’s been almost four hours since April was rushed to the hospital from a circus of events that left no one smiling. He felt his consciousness flee him. Then there was darkness.
25 November 2009
THE SUN DOESN'T SHINE
The days are gloomy
I feel like a dark cloud follows me around
unmindful of the light that brightens the rest of the world
I don't feel warmth
I only feel the rain heavily pouring on me
I only have the heavens as witness of how much you mean to me
It may not be able to speak; beg and plead for me, if only it could
But all it could do is cast a shadow on me much like a spotlight, only the opposite
Longing for that day for darkness to flee me
The days seem like forever without you
It's been a thousand days since I last held your hand as us
I feel like I took my last breath when you left
All this time I have been holding my breath
I don't know how much longer I could last
But I know not for long
Please come back and save me from this misery filling my lungs
and turn my nights back into days
If only I could have your smile and your warmth
I know I would live again
Because believe me
the sun doesn't shine without you
I feel like a dark cloud follows me around
unmindful of the light that brightens the rest of the world
I don't feel warmth
I only feel the rain heavily pouring on me
I only have the heavens as witness of how much you mean to me
It may not be able to speak; beg and plead for me, if only it could
But all it could do is cast a shadow on me much like a spotlight, only the opposite
Longing for that day for darkness to flee me
The days seem like forever without you
It's been a thousand days since I last held your hand as us
I feel like I took my last breath when you left
All this time I have been holding my breath
I don't know how much longer I could last
But I know not for long
Please come back and save me from this misery filling my lungs
and turn my nights back into days
If only I could have your smile and your warmth
I know I would live again
Because believe me
the sun doesn't shine without you
05 November 2009
Dance
It wasn't exactly the most romantic of all nights. But it was one heck of a night to remember and cherish a lifetime.
Dinner was good, great even. Had grilled chops and iced tea to go with it. Your favorit Pizza Bites and your newly thought of game of ping, which up to now I can't figure how you got that idea. But it was cute though, really cute.
As time ticked and tocked, I grew nervous. It felt like it's the first time having you join me for dinner. I could see my hands literally shaking out of nervousness.
I invited you over to my place. We were supposed to talk, make sense of things that don't.
As I opened the door for her, my heart started pounding so hard. You would think that there was a little drum festival inside it, with drums being beaten as if there is no tomorrow. Easy does it. Shoot! I forgot to tidy things up. The scent wasn't al that sweet either. Way to go moron.
I played the songs that I already prepared. Songs that we have shared. Songs that have narrated our story. I approached you from where you were seated. Offered my hand to you and asked you to dance.
As the music played, we swayed and let the melody drift us to a plce where the only things that mattered was you and me. I held you tight, as tight as I could like a child afraid of losing his favorite toy or candies to strangers. All of a sudden, I just broke down, cried like a little baby longing for his mom whose only refuge he could get was from her warmth and embrace. I held you as close as I could. I felt your heart beat next to mine. I felt you skin against mine. I could hear you breathe. I just missed you so. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing as if a dark cloude whose rain could offer a decade of tears or maybe even more. I also felt you cry over my shoulder. I felt you grip me tight, so tight. As a tear flowed from her eyes, I cried twice as hard.
Then the four walls of the room was no longer there. The creaky floor was nowhere to be found and no longer making its sound. The music, I could hear no more. It was just you and me. It was just the darkness of space around with distant stars providing us light, much like fireflies dancing with us at that moment as if celebrating a love that was so true and real, at least for me that time.
Two hearts that were once whole, are now together again at that moment. They once beat as one. They once share the same blood running through them. They once completed each other. But that is no longer true. The other now shares her heart with someone eles. It now beats with someone else. It now longs for someone else. I know that. But at least, I felt how beautifyl and great it is to be with you again, even for once, although it would have been better to have it forever. Dance with you 'til forever ends.
I know that it would be too difficult to have it back the way it used to be, maybe even impossible. But I won't stop loving you. I just can't because my heart belongs to you.
Dinner was good, great even. Had grilled chops and iced tea to go with it. Your favorit Pizza Bites and your newly thought of game of ping, which up to now I can't figure how you got that idea. But it was cute though, really cute.
As time ticked and tocked, I grew nervous. It felt like it's the first time having you join me for dinner. I could see my hands literally shaking out of nervousness.
I invited you over to my place. We were supposed to talk, make sense of things that don't.
As I opened the door for her, my heart started pounding so hard. You would think that there was a little drum festival inside it, with drums being beaten as if there is no tomorrow. Easy does it. Shoot! I forgot to tidy things up. The scent wasn't al that sweet either. Way to go moron.
I played the songs that I already prepared. Songs that we have shared. Songs that have narrated our story. I approached you from where you were seated. Offered my hand to you and asked you to dance.
As the music played, we swayed and let the melody drift us to a plce where the only things that mattered was you and me. I held you tight, as tight as I could like a child afraid of losing his favorite toy or candies to strangers. All of a sudden, I just broke down, cried like a little baby longing for his mom whose only refuge he could get was from her warmth and embrace. I held you as close as I could. I felt your heart beat next to mine. I felt you skin against mine. I could hear you breathe. I just missed you so. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing as if a dark cloude whose rain could offer a decade of tears or maybe even more. I also felt you cry over my shoulder. I felt you grip me tight, so tight. As a tear flowed from her eyes, I cried twice as hard.
Then the four walls of the room was no longer there. The creaky floor was nowhere to be found and no longer making its sound. The music, I could hear no more. It was just you and me. It was just the darkness of space around with distant stars providing us light, much like fireflies dancing with us at that moment as if celebrating a love that was so true and real, at least for me that time.
Two hearts that were once whole, are now together again at that moment. They once beat as one. They once share the same blood running through them. They once completed each other. But that is no longer true. The other now shares her heart with someone eles. It now beats with someone else. It now longs for someone else. I know that. But at least, I felt how beautifyl and great it is to be with you again, even for once, although it would have been better to have it forever. Dance with you 'til forever ends.
I know that it would be too difficult to have it back the way it used to be, maybe even impossible. But I won't stop loving you. I just can't because my heart belongs to you.
31 October 2009
Wishes
How come every breath is a pain?
Like a fish taken out from the water
How come the great foor we used to share
just doesn't taste the same when you're not around?
How come it kills me so badly? - slowly
A wound that I hope would end as a scar
But at the moment, remains a wound
Bleeding continuously, ever so flowing
Sometimes, I even wonder when it would stop
If ever it has plans of stopping
I even just leave the lights on to sleep
Not because the darkness haunts me
But because of the sadness that goes with it
Sadness from within, emulated by the darkness
I know things are better for you
Sure hope it was the same for me
But I guess not - and I know it shows
Hearing your voice was like a breath of fresh air
even for just a short moment
not to own, but borrow
I wish I could hold you
Feel your skin against mine
I wish I could hug you
hold you close, so tight and never let go
I wish I could feel your heart beat next to mine
I wish I could, I wish I could
I guess wishes are for people who don't have anything - but wishes to hold on to
Like a fish taken out from the water
How come the great foor we used to share
just doesn't taste the same when you're not around?
How come it kills me so badly? - slowly
A wound that I hope would end as a scar
But at the moment, remains a wound
Bleeding continuously, ever so flowing
Sometimes, I even wonder when it would stop
If ever it has plans of stopping
I even just leave the lights on to sleep
Not because the darkness haunts me
But because of the sadness that goes with it
Sadness from within, emulated by the darkness
I know things are better for you
Sure hope it was the same for me
But I guess not - and I know it shows
Hearing your voice was like a breath of fresh air
even for just a short moment
not to own, but borrow
I wish I could hold you
Feel your skin against mine
I wish I could hug you
hold you close, so tight and never let go
I wish I could feel your heart beat next to mine
I wish I could, I wish I could
I guess wishes are for people who don't have anything - but wishes to hold on to
19 October 2009
Time Machine
I have been asking people around what would be one thing that they would want to have, no matter how magical or impossible it may be.
A lot of answers were things that were never really new.
Some wanted to have the person of their dreams. Some wanted to have their dream house. A house by the sea or by a place above the city to see the beautiful lights of the world at night.
Most people grabbed the magical things.
Some people want to have the power to be invisible so that they could see what others were doing when "no one" is looking. Some people wanted to get into people's mind. Know what they are thinking. Know what they are hiding. And a whole lot more.
But the most answers that I got were the ever so undying dream - to have the ability to jump through time. Travel through time. Time Machine. Time warp. Time Bending. Whichever way you want to call it.
Most would want to go back to the past to mend the things that they have done wrong. To make the present 'right'. It is a fact that we make mistakes. We regret these mistakes. We would want to do everything to go back and undo those mistakes. A natural human feeling - redemption. As a friend would put, fixation.
Others wanted to go to the future. Make time faster. Maybe because they want to see how their actions now would be of effect in the future. Maybe because they are waiting for something/someone, that they are at the mercy of time and waiting just isn't an option.
What if we can have the things we dream of? What if simply wishing would give everything we want? I can't help but think of the line, be careful of what you wish for. Should we really be careful?
A lot of answers were things that were never really new.
Some wanted to have the person of their dreams. Some wanted to have their dream house. A house by the sea or by a place above the city to see the beautiful lights of the world at night.
Most people grabbed the magical things.
Some people want to have the power to be invisible so that they could see what others were doing when "no one" is looking. Some people wanted to get into people's mind. Know what they are thinking. Know what they are hiding. And a whole lot more.
But the most answers that I got were the ever so undying dream - to have the ability to jump through time. Travel through time. Time Machine. Time warp. Time Bending. Whichever way you want to call it.
Most would want to go back to the past to mend the things that they have done wrong. To make the present 'right'. It is a fact that we make mistakes. We regret these mistakes. We would want to do everything to go back and undo those mistakes. A natural human feeling - redemption. As a friend would put, fixation.
Others wanted to go to the future. Make time faster. Maybe because they want to see how their actions now would be of effect in the future. Maybe because they are waiting for something/someone, that they are at the mercy of time and waiting just isn't an option.
What if we can have the things we dream of? What if simply wishing would give everything we want? I can't help but think of the line, be careful of what you wish for. Should we really be careful?
Forbidden II
The restaurant was nice and classy. Round tables good for two were spread out on the floor. Not too close to each other so as to give couples the privacy that they need for themselves. There are about four other couples in the room. Maybe even more, Eric never really noticed.
They took the table at the corner of the room. The food was perfect. Nicely roasted beef with potatoes and Chicken Cordeon Bleu with red wine.
At the center of the room plays a four piece band. Giving the feeling of a mini orchestra. Violin and saxophone were the only one recognized by Eric. He's not that much into music, he thought. Yet he enjoys listening to the music filling the room with romance. The band was now playing their rendition of Leann Rimes' I Need You.
Eric stood up on walked up to April. He took her hand and held it tight. They danced in the little space next to their table. He held their hands close to his chest while the other wrapped around her waist, feeling the beautiful curve of her body and her other hand wrapped around his neck. To him, it was one of the most perfect moment of all. As they swayed and felt the rhythm, slowly he could no longer hear the music. He could no longer hear the noise in the room. It was just him and her in that room. Everything else was a blur. Like the movies wherein everything else became still and unnoticed while they danced with the spotlight only pointed to them. It was only her he sees. It's only her he feels. It couldn't have been more perfect, he thought.
He couldn't help but just look at her angelic face and feel his heart beat with her close.
"You're beautiful in that white dress." He said.
"Thank you."
She was indeed beautiful. Her eyes as crimson blue as a clear sky in a sunny day. Her lips as red as roses could be. Her skin, as soft as cotton.
Gunshot!
The moment was totally shattered with five gunshots that resounded in the room like a bear whose roar startled everyone in the room. He held her tight. Shielding her body with his own.
A man across the room lay slumped in a table. He had a revolver held in his hand. Two men in black tux, much like MIB he thought, rushed in to the shooter. The man was dead. One of the men in tux apparently fired at him.
The room was then filled with screaming and crying. But Eric didn't have any intentions of knowing where they came from. He looked at April still tucked in his arms. Then there was blood. Her white dress was now drenched in blood.
They took the table at the corner of the room. The food was perfect. Nicely roasted beef with potatoes and Chicken Cordeon Bleu with red wine.
At the center of the room plays a four piece band. Giving the feeling of a mini orchestra. Violin and saxophone were the only one recognized by Eric. He's not that much into music, he thought. Yet he enjoys listening to the music filling the room with romance. The band was now playing their rendition of Leann Rimes' I Need You.
Eric stood up on walked up to April. He took her hand and held it tight. They danced in the little space next to their table. He held their hands close to his chest while the other wrapped around her waist, feeling the beautiful curve of her body and her other hand wrapped around his neck. To him, it was one of the most perfect moment of all. As they swayed and felt the rhythm, slowly he could no longer hear the music. He could no longer hear the noise in the room. It was just him and her in that room. Everything else was a blur. Like the movies wherein everything else became still and unnoticed while they danced with the spotlight only pointed to them. It was only her he sees. It's only her he feels. It couldn't have been more perfect, he thought.
He couldn't help but just look at her angelic face and feel his heart beat with her close.
"You're beautiful in that white dress." He said.
"Thank you."
She was indeed beautiful. Her eyes as crimson blue as a clear sky in a sunny day. Her lips as red as roses could be. Her skin, as soft as cotton.
Gunshot!
The moment was totally shattered with five gunshots that resounded in the room like a bear whose roar startled everyone in the room. He held her tight. Shielding her body with his own.
A man across the room lay slumped in a table. He had a revolver held in his hand. Two men in black tux, much like MIB he thought, rushed in to the shooter. The man was dead. One of the men in tux apparently fired at him.
The room was then filled with screaming and crying. But Eric didn't have any intentions of knowing where they came from. He looked at April still tucked in his arms. Then there was blood. Her white dress was now drenched in blood.
Epitaph
It's funny how our life is summarized in a dash in our epitaph upon our burial. Date born. Date died. Separated only with a dash.
Name
Date born - Date died
Everything else in between wouldn't even matter. Is it because what ever it is you do in life, life and death are the only things certain and would matter? I sure hope not so.
I think that life in itself is precious. It is something we should cherish, take care, and be thankful of.
Then why the dash? It's because we don't need to write the things that we have made a difference of. Who we are and what we have done won't be of importance and value if they are simply written. They will show through the people around us. The people we have hurt. The people we have loved. The people we have touched lives. The people we have laughed with, cried with. The people we have shared a cup of coffee with. The people we have shared a movie with.
You don't need to replace the dash, you simply have to look around.
Name
Date born - Date died
Everything else in between wouldn't even matter. Is it because what ever it is you do in life, life and death are the only things certain and would matter? I sure hope not so.
I think that life in itself is precious. It is something we should cherish, take care, and be thankful of.
Then why the dash? It's because we don't need to write the things that we have made a difference of. Who we are and what we have done won't be of importance and value if they are simply written. They will show through the people around us. The people we have hurt. The people we have loved. The people we have touched lives. The people we have laughed with, cried with. The people we have shared a cup of coffee with. The people we have shared a movie with.
You don't need to replace the dash, you simply have to look around.
Corners of Circles
Here I am again. In front of this stupid screen, trying to make sense of things that I have up here in my silly head. Normally that is the case. I write to make sense of what things that, naturally, don't make sense.
It's one of those days though wherein I really can't make up the words with the letters, recognize the corners of circles, or even if there is a left of center.
For some reason, I paused. Let my Folderlock software run. And put this file in there. Away from people's access even if they steal this old beat-up computer. (Yet I'm posting this.)
Does this mean that there might be things I am going to write here that might make no sense at all, that it will be ashame for people to read it? Or could it be the other way around? Things would make so much sense that it'll be a disaster for others or even me to understand. I hate thinking this way. I feel such a pig.
Every night, when I am home, I feel empty. I feel like nothing. A suspended dirt in a vacuum of space. Its as if I don't live or even exist. The only escape - a deep slumber from reality. But how come even in slumber, you follow me around? I can still see you. I can still feel you. I can still feel the pain. I can still feel the hurt. I can still feel the bruise.
I can still feel the love I have for you.
Like I said to you before, I will love you always.
Why do people get hurt so much when they love? When they fail with love? Or when love fails them?
Do we get hurt because the person won't give us the chance to give the world to them? Do we get hurt because we can not have the love that we want/need from the other person?
Does it hurt because we are not given the chance to love or because we are not loved?
Or am I asking the wrong set of questions?
If we are happy with someone, it doesn't mean that we are in love. This is the most common mistake of people. Convincing themselves that they are in love when they are able to laugh and smile with someone.
If we miss someone, it doesn't mean we are in love with that person.
If we are holding someone's hand and feel good about it, it doesn't mean that we are in love.
Being comfortable and feeling secure with someone is not equivalent to love. As long as you feel the security and comfort, it doesn't matter whose hand you are holding. And when that person is dispensable then that is certainly not love.
Would it make sense to describe what love is NOT than what it is? Would it be easier to understand? Or would it be more confusing?
Well it seems to me that what love IS is the same as what it is NOT.
It's one of those days though wherein I really can't make up the words with the letters, recognize the corners of circles, or even if there is a left of center.
For some reason, I paused. Let my Folderlock software run. And put this file in there. Away from people's access even if they steal this old beat-up computer. (Yet I'm posting this.)
Does this mean that there might be things I am going to write here that might make no sense at all, that it will be ashame for people to read it? Or could it be the other way around? Things would make so much sense that it'll be a disaster for others or even me to understand. I hate thinking this way. I feel such a pig.
Every night, when I am home, I feel empty. I feel like nothing. A suspended dirt in a vacuum of space. Its as if I don't live or even exist. The only escape - a deep slumber from reality. But how come even in slumber, you follow me around? I can still see you. I can still feel you. I can still feel the pain. I can still feel the hurt. I can still feel the bruise.
I can still feel the love I have for you.
Like I said to you before, I will love you always.
Why do people get hurt so much when they love? When they fail with love? Or when love fails them?
Do we get hurt because the person won't give us the chance to give the world to them? Do we get hurt because we can not have the love that we want/need from the other person?
Does it hurt because we are not given the chance to love or because we are not loved?
Or am I asking the wrong set of questions?
If we are happy with someone, it doesn't mean that we are in love. This is the most common mistake of people. Convincing themselves that they are in love when they are able to laugh and smile with someone.
If we miss someone, it doesn't mean we are in love with that person.
If we are holding someone's hand and feel good about it, it doesn't mean that we are in love.
Being comfortable and feeling secure with someone is not equivalent to love. As long as you feel the security and comfort, it doesn't matter whose hand you are holding. And when that person is dispensable then that is certainly not love.
Would it make sense to describe what love is NOT than what it is? Would it be easier to understand? Or would it be more confusing?
Well it seems to me that what love IS is the same as what it is NOT.
11 October 2009
One Dance
If I could have one final dance with you, I'd play a song that never ends.
Feel your heart next to mine. Feel it beat against the walls of our chest. Feel the warmth that comforts even the coldest of all nights. Feel the air that you breathe. Feel you whisper in my ears. Feel the music that binds us together. Feel every step bringing us to a world beyond existence, beyond what the mind could ever phatom. For in the world that holds nothing but uncertainty, one thing is certain - I Love you. And you don't.
But even so, one dance with you would be enough.
And I'll hold that moment 'til the sands of time runs out.
Feel your heart next to mine. Feel it beat against the walls of our chest. Feel the warmth that comforts even the coldest of all nights. Feel the air that you breathe. Feel you whisper in my ears. Feel the music that binds us together. Feel every step bringing us to a world beyond existence, beyond what the mind could ever phatom. For in the world that holds nothing but uncertainty, one thing is certain - I Love you. And you don't.
But even so, one dance with you would be enough.
And I'll hold that moment 'til the sands of time runs out.
09 October 2009
Need to Sleep
This might not be the usual way I write in this site. Creatively.
But right now, I just can't sum up anything creative. Everything is just as blunt as it could be. Tiring.
For two weeks now, I have been having a hard time sleeping. What gives?
I think that it should be a lot easier to sleep since work has been CRAZY! Fourteen to sixteen hours a day, I suppose, would send someone right off to dream land in no time. How come I am not?
Have you ever had that feeling? Tired. Wanting to sleep yet you can't?!
I hate this. Please help me sleep. Please help me see darkness to see new light.
But right now, I just can't sum up anything creative. Everything is just as blunt as it could be. Tiring.
For two weeks now, I have been having a hard time sleeping. What gives?
I think that it should be a lot easier to sleep since work has been CRAZY! Fourteen to sixteen hours a day, I suppose, would send someone right off to dream land in no time. How come I am not?
Have you ever had that feeling? Tired. Wanting to sleep yet you can't?!
I hate this. Please help me sleep. Please help me see darkness to see new light.
16 September 2009
Time
1:47am
It's kinda funny, the only thing telling the truth and going right is time.
It's the only thing that is true.
Nothing is going right.
Nothing seems to be working.
Nothing seems to going how I wish things would go.
I tried. I hoped. I prayed.
Still, the only thing that is right is time.
Maybe the answer comes with it.
Too late maybe. Too late for things to be. Or is it too early to say that it is too late?
Yet, again it is the only thing that is true, the only thing that is right.
It's kinda funny, the only thing telling the truth and going right is time.
It's the only thing that is true.
Nothing is going right.
Nothing seems to be working.
Nothing seems to going how I wish things would go.
I tried. I hoped. I prayed.
Still, the only thing that is right is time.
Maybe the answer comes with it.
Too late maybe. Too late for things to be. Or is it too early to say that it is too late?
Yet, again it is the only thing that is true, the only thing that is right.
Why Can't He Be You?
I asked him that question.
She rests not in your arms and shoulders
But on that guy who gives her comfort
And that is not you
She smiles at his little notes posted for her
A simple 'hi' from him brightens her day
A simple 'take care' from him makes her feel
like the most valuable diamond in the world.
Unfortunately, those words don't come from you
Wait a minute though, I know you say those words
I know you say 'hi' and 'take care'
Maybe they just don't come out right
Maybe you just don't sound sweet enough when you say it
Why don't you try to be like him man
I have to agree with her though that the simple things matter
A simple gesture means more than treasure
Too bad you ain't for it
Too bad you are not the man for it
Too bad you are not him
Why can't you be the man she seeks
Why can't you be the man to complete her
Why can't you be the man to love her
She won't let you
Why can't he be you?
She rests not in your arms and shoulders
But on that guy who gives her comfort
And that is not you
She smiles at his little notes posted for her
A simple 'hi' from him brightens her day
A simple 'take care' from him makes her feel
like the most valuable diamond in the world.
Unfortunately, those words don't come from you
Wait a minute though, I know you say those words
I know you say 'hi' and 'take care'
Maybe they just don't come out right
Maybe you just don't sound sweet enough when you say it
Why don't you try to be like him man
I have to agree with her though that the simple things matter
A simple gesture means more than treasure
Too bad you ain't for it
Too bad you are not the man for it
Too bad you are not him
Why can't you be the man she seeks
Why can't you be the man to complete her
Why can't you be the man to love her
She won't let you
Why can't he be you?
Not You
I speak with you yet I don't hear you
I hug you yet I don't feel you
I kiss you yet I don't taste you
I hold your hand yet it's not you gripping
I know there is something wrong
I know that this is something I can't mend
or at least you wouldn't want to give me (us) the chance to
And now things have crumbled
Things have fallen
and you know how devastated I am
I have built a sand castle only to be washed away by the waves
I never had the chance to stop it, I guess I was at the mercy of it
Come to think of it I guess I made the biggest mistake myself
Why have I built the castle with sand rather than bricks?
I hug you yet I don't feel you
I kiss you yet I don't taste you
I hold your hand yet it's not you gripping
I know there is something wrong
I know that this is something I can't mend
or at least you wouldn't want to give me (us) the chance to
And now things have crumbled
Things have fallen
and you know how devastated I am
I have built a sand castle only to be washed away by the waves
I never had the chance to stop it, I guess I was at the mercy of it
Come to think of it I guess I made the biggest mistake myself
Why have I built the castle with sand rather than bricks?
11 September 2009
Hang in there
Hi man! How are you doing? Things have been tough huh? Tell me about it man.
Things have been crazy lately.
I have seen you fall into bed like a frail leaf under the mercy of gravity; you just don't have much choice but to submit.
I have seen you made things that I know you know are wrong and still you are doing those things. I understand. No excuse though.
I have seen you try to cope, try to pick yourself up yet you still stumble.
I have seen you made a fool out of yourseif a lot of times. Maybe being a fool is better than being a dead fragment of the universe in existence. Existing yet not living.
Hang in there. I know you have a lot more to say and to do.
Again, just hang in there. It's either you lose or you lose more.
Don't worry. Things will be okay. I am hoping for it to happen. I am praying for it to happen.
Don't let the edge be the end. The bottom of that ledge is a new world. It may hurt. It will hurt.
Hang in there man.
Things have been crazy lately.
I have seen you fall into bed like a frail leaf under the mercy of gravity; you just don't have much choice but to submit.
I have seen you made things that I know you know are wrong and still you are doing those things. I understand. No excuse though.
I have seen you try to cope, try to pick yourself up yet you still stumble.
I have seen you made a fool out of yourseif a lot of times. Maybe being a fool is better than being a dead fragment of the universe in existence. Existing yet not living.
Hang in there. I know you have a lot more to say and to do.
Again, just hang in there. It's either you lose or you lose more.
Don't worry. Things will be okay. I am hoping for it to happen. I am praying for it to happen.
Don't let the edge be the end. The bottom of that ledge is a new world. It may hurt. It will hurt.
Hang in there man.
24 August 2009
Will Remain a Mystery... Even to me
The night was long. I think I had one drink too many. Had a blast though. Went out with old buddies, had a great time together, drinking, getting crazy on the dancefloor; reliving the good old times.
When I opened my room, I knew there was something different. The bed was fixed. My pillows were cleanly tucked at the corner of the bed with my little shooter, a cute stuffed-toy given by a friend. The rags I left on the floor were now put away. Things were a little neater.
Somehow, I wasn't surprised. I knew who did those things. I saw it coming yet I didn't want it to happen; maybe one of the reasons I went out in the first place, to try and avoid the things that are about to come forth me.
And there it was, a letter on top of my computer, held by a little USB thingy I bought at the office. As if life simply wanted to mock me, just as how cleanly the room was left, my life would turn out to be a complete mess.
I knew what it was for. I never bothered to read it. I just threw it out. All I ever had the chance to read was 'Goodbye' written at the very end of the letter and nothing more.
I guess it is better that way. So much have been said. So many questions that were answered with lies. What would ,make this letter be any different? If what was written there was the truth this time, I guess I don't want the truth anymore since it would never really matter. Maybe this time the truth would hurt more than the lies.
Sometimes I wonder what was written there but the good thing is I wouldn't have any way of finding out. Everything will remain a mystery... even to me.
When I opened my room, I knew there was something different. The bed was fixed. My pillows were cleanly tucked at the corner of the bed with my little shooter, a cute stuffed-toy given by a friend. The rags I left on the floor were now put away. Things were a little neater.
Somehow, I wasn't surprised. I knew who did those things. I saw it coming yet I didn't want it to happen; maybe one of the reasons I went out in the first place, to try and avoid the things that are about to come forth me.
And there it was, a letter on top of my computer, held by a little USB thingy I bought at the office. As if life simply wanted to mock me, just as how cleanly the room was left, my life would turn out to be a complete mess.
I knew what it was for. I never bothered to read it. I just threw it out. All I ever had the chance to read was 'Goodbye' written at the very end of the letter and nothing more.
I guess it is better that way. So much have been said. So many questions that were answered with lies. What would ,make this letter be any different? If what was written there was the truth this time, I guess I don't want the truth anymore since it would never really matter. Maybe this time the truth would hurt more than the lies.
Sometimes I wonder what was written there but the good thing is I wouldn't have any way of finding out. Everything will remain a mystery... even to me.
16 August 2009
Magic
I believe in magic.
I believe in the fact that waking up every morning and feeling the sun’s warmth is magic.
I believe that being able to smile and laugh at even the shallowest of all jokes is magic.
I believe that being able to smell the sweetness of a flower’s scent is magic.
I believe how songs inspire us, make us sing, make us smile, make us cry;– is magic.
I guess believing is all there is to it.
I believe in the fact that waking up every morning and feeling the sun’s warmth is magic.
I believe that being able to smile and laugh at even the shallowest of all jokes is magic.
I believe that being able to smell the sweetness of a flower’s scent is magic.
I believe how songs inspire us, make us sing, make us smile, make us cry;– is magic.
I guess believing is all there is to it.
Past Present Future (ver 2.0)
There are three (3) types of people in this world. The Past, The Present and The Future.
The Past people are the type of people who thinks that the “back then” was always better than now. These people have a strong resistant to change. They like songs of the past, like songs of the 70’s, 80’s and the 90’s more than Lady Gaga, Kelly Clarskon, Paramore, Black Eyed Peas and the like. Classic Rolls Royce would be there taste compared to fire red Ferrari. These people tend to work hard to redeem themselves from unfavorable circumstances in the past. Every decission, every move, is meant to mend something in the past. They also bank on working hard to achieve something they had in the past; maybe lost or something that they want to keep because it brings them joy and happiness, and bring it to 'present time'
The Present people are the ones living in the “now”. These people savor every moment they have. These people can mostly be seen chewing there food as slowly as they can. Making sure that they lather the food all over their mouth making sure that they get to savor every bit of taste the food has. They tend to eat in little bits rather than big chunks. There is no need to rush since the only time is now and will forever live in “now”. They regard every second as a blessing, worthy of every bit of attention for they will never be able to experience the same even if they get to live again. Every breath is worth taking time to inhale and exhale. Every scent is worth the time comprehending and enjoying especially if it’s a sweet scent of flowers from your very own garden in the backyard.
The Future person is the person who looks ahead. His decisions are mostly in anticipation of something much bigger and greater in the future. These are, most of the time, the hard driven people. Career is important since it will distinguish who they will be and what they have in the future. Time seems to pass by so quickly; so many things to do with so little time, or at least that is how they see it.
So which are you?? ^_^
The Past people are the type of people who thinks that the “back then” was always better than now. These people have a strong resistant to change. They like songs of the past, like songs of the 70’s, 80’s and the 90’s more than Lady Gaga, Kelly Clarskon, Paramore, Black Eyed Peas and the like. Classic Rolls Royce would be there taste compared to fire red Ferrari. These people tend to work hard to redeem themselves from unfavorable circumstances in the past. Every decission, every move, is meant to mend something in the past. They also bank on working hard to achieve something they had in the past; maybe lost or something that they want to keep because it brings them joy and happiness, and bring it to 'present time'
The Present people are the ones living in the “now”. These people savor every moment they have. These people can mostly be seen chewing there food as slowly as they can. Making sure that they lather the food all over their mouth making sure that they get to savor every bit of taste the food has. They tend to eat in little bits rather than big chunks. There is no need to rush since the only time is now and will forever live in “now”. They regard every second as a blessing, worthy of every bit of attention for they will never be able to experience the same even if they get to live again. Every breath is worth taking time to inhale and exhale. Every scent is worth the time comprehending and enjoying especially if it’s a sweet scent of flowers from your very own garden in the backyard.
The Future person is the person who looks ahead. His decisions are mostly in anticipation of something much bigger and greater in the future. These are, most of the time, the hard driven people. Career is important since it will distinguish who they will be and what they have in the future. Time seems to pass by so quickly; so many things to do with so little time, or at least that is how they see it.
So which are you?? ^_^
How Could I?
How could you ask me not to fall when falling is the only thing that feels right in the most awkward and most unlikely situation?
How could you ask me not to fall when holding your hand is the only thing makes me feel alive?
How could you ask me not to fall when your hugs and kisses are reason enough for me to smile even in my dreams?
How could you ask me not to fall when having you around is reason enough to believe that I am one with this world?
How could you tell me that I am special when you have that ring around your finger and the other belongs to someone else?
How could I have been able to bear the moments wherein we go out and I keep myself from being too close to you since the world knows how wrong it was to be together out in the open? (much more when we are alone together)
How could you tell me that you were hoping for something between us when at the end of the day, we both know how things will end? - you with your man and me all alone.
How could I have been able to ride this carousel with you when we both know it'll get us nowhere?
We would end up the same place we were at, before and after the ride, no matter how beautiful the ride was.
How could you ask me not to fall when holding your hand is the only thing makes me feel alive?
How could you ask me not to fall when your hugs and kisses are reason enough for me to smile even in my dreams?
How could you ask me not to fall when having you around is reason enough to believe that I am one with this world?
How could you tell me that I am special when you have that ring around your finger and the other belongs to someone else?
How could I have been able to bear the moments wherein we go out and I keep myself from being too close to you since the world knows how wrong it was to be together out in the open? (much more when we are alone together)
How could you tell me that you were hoping for something between us when at the end of the day, we both know how things will end? - you with your man and me all alone.
How could I have been able to ride this carousel with you when we both know it'll get us nowhere?
We would end up the same place we were at, before and after the ride, no matter how beautiful the ride was.
Forbidden I
The first sight of her face in the morning made Eric thought that he doesn't need to be in heaven to see an angel. Heaven is a place on earth as long as he gets to see her and be with her, even for just a little bit of time. He knows things are wrong. He knows things aren't supposed to be, for some very obvious reason.
As he marveled at God's great creation, whose name is April, right beside him in bed she slowly opened her eyes and gave a smile as beautiful as the sun's light rushing into the room through the blinds as if telling you that no matter how you prevent it, it always finds its way into your heart making your day as beautiful as sunshine.
She gave him a kiss and hugged him tight. As if being with a divine creation was not enough, he even had the chance to feel its skin against his making his morning all the more greater and better. "Good morning angel.", Eric said.
This is not the first time for them to be together yet every chance they can feels like the first time, even better by the day; a feeling he would never get tired of; a feeling that he hopes to be his forever for he knows that wishing for it to be forever is the only thing that he can do. Never to become a reality because his angel has a golden ring around her finger and the other pair of it does not belong to him.
As he marveled at God's great creation, whose name is April, right beside him in bed she slowly opened her eyes and gave a smile as beautiful as the sun's light rushing into the room through the blinds as if telling you that no matter how you prevent it, it always finds its way into your heart making your day as beautiful as sunshine.
She gave him a kiss and hugged him tight. As if being with a divine creation was not enough, he even had the chance to feel its skin against his making his morning all the more greater and better. "Good morning angel.", Eric said.
This is not the first time for them to be together yet every chance they can feels like the first time, even better by the day; a feeling he would never get tired of; a feeling that he hopes to be his forever for he knows that wishing for it to be forever is the only thing that he can do. Never to become a reality because his angel has a golden ring around her finger and the other pair of it does not belong to him.
Welcome
WELCOME!
Just like what the title says. ^_^
I do hope that the time you will be spending in this page is going to be worth every tick and tock of your clock.
Please do feel free to send feedbacks at terrie995@gmail.com.
Just like what the title says. ^_^
I do hope that the time you will be spending in this page is going to be worth every tick and tock of your clock.
Please do feel free to send feedbacks at terrie995@gmail.com.
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