of paper hearts and chocolate things.

556755_416131418508022_688664128_nI’ve never wondered why we are friends. You, on the other hand, asked me —-and I mustered a half-baked excuse of something I could not remember.

Maybe it was the crazy “cutter” days of joys that we had in high school. How you terrified Jeffrey then. Or maybe it was the carefree attitude I had. Like how I was never really bothered by your psychotic fits (remember, how you would silently threaten anyone with anything sharp?). Or maybe, it was my shallow personality that never really needed any deep reason to laugh at anything silly no matter how corny the jokes are (not that you throw jokes anyway–but i laugh still). Or can it be the books? Aaahh! must be the books indeed! Before we got intellectual and funny with Carl Sagan and Tom Sharpe, it was harlequin romance novels then (and Fabio on the covers). When I got so hooked up, I wouldn’t leave my room and my mother thought I was into drugs. I think your mom, on the other hand, stern and strict, told you to pack it up and give it away.

That and the Sailormoon trips we indulged in after classes. Our mutual love for Mamuro Chiba was borderline nuerotic but it illuminated our path towards advocating anime galactic peace. We found our first advocacy. Continue reading

5 ways to know that I’m not in the mood

No i’m not talking about sex.  But when you are not in the mood sexually, I’d recommend for you to feign sleep or better, pop a sleeping pill. That way it becomes non-negotiable.  Both get what they want. you get your peace and your partner can party all by himself and you won’t hear or feel a thing.  But that is gross, so dump him after.

Women may not talk about it but a lacking sexual desire is common amongst us.  This lack of libido is called Hypo-sexual Desire or HSD.  This is actually a common case amongst clinicians– about 1/3 of all sexually adult women suffer from this due to reasons like stress, relationship problems, illnesses,  and pregnancies.But there are three stages in a woman’s sexual phase, it’s desire, climax, and orgasm —if you are desirable and  your partner still doesn’t want you, it can be the case above.  But if you have doubts in your desirability, you may want to hit the gym class— but I would suggest you join the Toastmaster’s club…why? because women are auditory, moron.  Our desires are heightened by what we hear you say not how you look.

But for all my non-sexual “Not-in-the-mood” moments, its hard to drop dead in the mall—- so I do these 5 five things. Continue reading

silent ode to the invisible.

My lips are numb.
My fingers are too stiff.
My eyes are dry.
My mind too weak to find excuses.
My spirit too disillusioned to even dream.

So this is how one feels when one is at a loss.
When one sees reality all too plainly.
When one gets stabbed with the sharp truth.

Can I ask for immunity?
From the pain?
From the mounting hurt?
From the fear that chokes?

Can I borrow?
a shallow laugh to wipe the tears away.
a hollow hug to make the burden a little lighter?
a reckless moment where I can run so I can chase my floating dreams.
a crayon to color the moments of solitude.
a longer sleep to oblivion to wash the nagging truth.

Can I, just for once… pass through walls?
…through people?
…through time?
to wander aimlessly…
to touch the stars…
to burn with the sun…
to laugh with the waves…
to conquer dragons…
to name new lands…
to create new worlds…

humming silence wanders across the room and beyond. Along with it is my roaming mind, chasing the red diaries of the sane, prevailing beyond the hateful reality of not being able to vanish upon will. All the while preparing the sheets… tying them together, making sure it is roped correctly, tied tightly to the window, as I prepare to jump to the little escape the world is offering.

Outside, I see no one familiar.
Outside, I will not be suffocated with lies that once drove me to madness.
Outside, no walls to abide and no bricks to scamper from…no cup to pour my blood on…no boxes to store my heart…No smoke to make me cry.

Outside…where there is nothing to hold on to and everything is new. Where the strings no longer have its magic and the words pure and true.


give me a farewell kiss

Special moments are moments that don’t last a lifetime…but you tend to be remember them forever…they get stuck somewhere between the right hemisphere of our brain and our tonsils – where we the push button is readily available for pushing. They haunt us and often bring about memories we would always think to be too good to be true…or too scary that we ask ourselves why we did it.

they fly too fast.
they taste so sweet…
and they often warm the soul or leave us cold…
so goodbyes become so hard when preceded by such an experience…
goodbyes don’t really matter without those experiences.
as farewells are not necessary between people who treat eachother as strangers.  
Even enemies, as they say goodbye to eachother feel a sense of nostalgia and a loss of purpose especially when they’ve hated eachother for a long time.
Goodbyes only hurt if you don’t want to say it.
But goodbyes are enivitable.
Every beginning has an end just as life has death. But goodbyes are also choices… others kiss eachother’s cheek as a sign of farewell because they choose to, others just do it inspite of themselves. We human beings just love to cut ourselves deep…just to know if we are still alive…coz the fact of the matter is, a too-sweet-life is numbing…and goodbyes are knives to make us bleed to live again…

suicide at 12

She instantly became a star when she decided to loop her neck a cord and died and she was only 12 years old.

She decided to take her own life because they were poor and her parents are always fighting . Before she died, she asked her mother let her work in the factory, the same place where her mom’s a worker. She was scolded so she went him –hurt, sad, and possibly confused.

When she died, they found her diary and inside it, they were able to read a part of her tormented soul. It’s been a month already since she last attended school, she wrote.  They don’t have enough money for food and transportation. She wrote she wanted to be a nurse. She wants to be the one to bring her family out of poverty.

Another entry was about her feelings towards her parents when they fight

How can one so young, feel so old?
Where can one so young get enough courage to take her own life?

I am a mother, and this type of news really makes me uncomfortable. When I saw it on tv, I immediately remembered my eldest daughter. Ever since her father and I called it quits, I’ve noticed a certain maturity in her. I would catch her looking at our wedding pictures and she would look so sad. She’s still the vibrant little girl she was but she’s started to have outbursts, she’s more stubborn, and there are moments where she is just quiet. I’ve always brushed this aside, hoping that one day, I could explain to her why. She is just a kid. I missed her suddenly.


Being able to understand and acting out of understanding are two different things…

Just because you understand, doesn’t necessarily mean that one is rational in answering such understanding. A kid may understand, but they may not know how to deal with it. In the sad case of this twelve year old girl, she answered it by taking her own life because she understood how hard their life is, how poor they are, how mean circumstances are…that and more.She knew…but that alone didn’t drive her to suicide.  Not knowing how to deal with all of it, is the real culprit.

So many things have shown her that life is hard, unfair, and cruel…but nobody was there to convince her that life can also be beautiful and that it should be cherished.

She didn’t knew the value of living, no one taught her.
And as a parent, no matter how busy we are, no matter how depressed we are, that is one lesson we should try to teach, no matter what.

A hug.
A simple pat.
A conversation.
A simple praise.
Having a composed demeanor.
Being calm.

We mold them not only with what we say to them but with the type of life we live. And thus, to effectively teach them how good life can be is to show them how to be grateful and happy with little things.

But how can we make them face life and at the same time retain their innocence? I am also looking for answers.  I am struggling myself.  It’s a double edge sword…and I might die bleeding.

twisted relationships

I’m your typical girl.
I am brown-skinned, I have a long black mane.
I wear casual clothes – usually a V-necked top that extends around 5 inches below my knee, jeans, flip flops or sandals…usually these days, I wear my havas coz they are comfortable.
I have my big purse, the kind that looks as if I’m stowing away from home and my mobile phone on right hand.

In some days, I look tousled — as if I just got lucky last night — where I have that sultry look where a secret grin is almost concealed…a grin most likely because I’m sharing a private joke with this gorgeous man beside me.

And the moments we’ve shared are all worth its weight in gold.
Not only does he make me laugh, he brings me food when I’m in the mood to eat pizza and nothing else, or he would spoil me with ice cream if he thinks the time is right. He cleans my place if it’s too messy…He brings me the latest lip gloss that will soon eventually become my favorite until he brings me another one.
We stare at each other’s eyes and faces while we stifle our giggles.
we do little hand signals that drives us to blush.
He touches my face, he whispers funny little nothings.
We banter.
we tease.
we flirt…

just about anything a great relationship can give you.

He is the perfect man — for that next hottie to pass by.
You see, he is my gay bestfriend.
And no matter how good looking he may look- fact remains that we both prefer the same sex.
Relationship with a gay friend, especially with a good looking one is the ultimate friendship with the opposite sex.It is a friendship where boundaries need not to be vague as there is no line to cross in the first place.

His number is the most dialled and texted number in my phone.

I see something good, I have to tell him.
I lost my purse, my phone, my heel broke, I’m stranded, I have no money, I found a lottery ticket, i forgot something, my ear hurts, I have a bad hair day ….everything — he must know…

I go to his place often or he stays at my house for sleepovers.
We have a favorite restaurant.
We ogle men at the gym.

It is, in many ways, overwhelming.  One fatal mistake most women do is they start to compare the men they meet to the fag they so love. And most often than not, the men end up short.

Men are clumsy, they are insensitive, and they hate shopping.
Most often than not, the emotional support you get from them is a grunt and his span of attention is as long as that advertisement running on tv.

Most of us  women who has a gay bestfriend wish to have a relationship with men that reflects the one that we have with our fab fag. Someone who can understand us when we rant about how the weather makes our hair dry, or how our officemate is trying to ruin our work, or how we find the shoes of Carrie in Sex and the city just irresistible. Someone who knows the value of a sale. Someone who would go crazy over the next johnny depp film. Who stops to watch baseball to accompany us to the theatre –and that is a tall order…and something that we might not want if served in a silver platter….and besides…our gay bestfriends would trade the giggles he’s having with us for a great night with another gay lover.

End of rant.

i’m still sick

Do you know that shot that you’re supposed to give your child to boost their immune system? what do you call that? ( insert name here ) yes that…well, my mom, decided that i can skip that shot and the shots to follow…the only shot i got was a tetanus shot.

I got it when the wound i got from a pedicure got infected and my big toe was swelling like a tomato– and I’m terrified of needles.  They had to have three male nurses chase me to have that injection —  i was already 21 then 0.O

Fear of needles is something i got from my mom. In her fear of needles, she decided to not get me my shots. Come to think of it, when i had my four molars taken out…she left me at the dentist with our neighbor looking after me, while she is outside the building…doing…i don’t know…pacing i guess…

so here i am, one cough from someone passing by, and i get sick.
a little drizzle and my temp would go up.
Someone sniffing, gets me sneezing in no time.

maaaannnnn….it’s so annoying, especially when you can’t breathe and you have a gallon of ice cream in the fridge. why, oh, why does it have to be meeeee?!!!!