I Choose

I choose to love you in my silence,
for in my silence I find no rejection

I choose to love you in my loneliness
for in my loneliness no one owns you but I

I choose to adore you from a distance
for distance will shield us both from pain

I choose to kiss you in the wind
for the wind is gentler than my lips

I choose to hold you in my dreams
for in my dreams there is no end


--EE Cummings

No Title At All

I feel empty.
I feel so broken.
What I'm writing here is worst than I feel. I stare to nothingness for hours. I feel like an empty shell.

Post Cards

post from here

Blabber and Rain

I don't know how to put my thoughts and emotions into words. I've been screwing my life over and over. I really want to be distant yet I crave for someone who will listen. I've been dying to try new things yet I'm afraid of stepping out of my comfort zone. I like it when it rains yet raindrops make me sad. Here I was running in the rain, anxious of what will happen later. My job is on a shaky situation and I was beginning to entertain worst-case scenarios...

Dear God, I can't even find comfort even on cyberspace..

Photo from here.

Something New, Noisiness and Harry Potter Fever

It's been awhile since I last posted here. I don't have time to compose anything since previous events were all pathetic and more self-loathing. I usually waste time staring blankly for hours and eventually answering yes to every questions without even understanding it. I don't let words, sentences or phrases sink in. Sometimes, I lay in bed lazily doing absolutely nothing until the room gets dark.

Since I left home, I missed all the luxury in life. I miss my car. It saves me time when I'm on errands. I miss the bank account I used to have before my runaway fiasco. I miss the sumptuous food that lay on the dining table. I miss the cable TV. I miss everything that I used to own and the comfortable life without any charge.

I miss my grandmother. Without a car, a visit to Manila Memorial is tiring because it was so big it feels like trekking. Sometimes I think that people needs grave as a place to grieve however, it is wise for me to think that it is not neccessarily the place where they are buried that connects us to the people we've lost, but the feelings we have inside for them.

I hate weekly changing shifts. Mostly, I grieved for double shifts not because I don't have enough sleep but I tend to count the hours left for me to do nothing. I embraced the thought of staring, sitting, smoking, lying or just doing nothing. My bowel movement also changed as far as I'm concerned.

Financial issue is the very core of my deep thought. I usually reserved Harry Potter series on bookstore before it came out to public. Because of this poorness, it'll have to wait, I suit myself reading an internet version of "Harry Potter and The Deathly Hollows". It looks like reading Mills and Boons, very much the same of FHM's ladies confessions. The story was full of kissing scenes while searching for the horcruxes. Who ever wrote this is truly amusing! I may not be reading the same pages like HP fans this Sunday morning but hey, this one's smashing!

Yesterday I finally understand what jelly-legs felt. I was stucked inside an elevator with 2 maintenance and an old lady. It was supposed to take me to the 9th floor but instead it shoots up like a rocket ready to take off to planet mars. We were stuck between 12th and 14th flr. I'm claustrophobic and I began to panic. I pushed the open button several times but it didn't work so I pressed the emergency button looking stupid and pale. The old lady was frightened about what I did and began cursing me. I was about to pass out because of nervousness but the elevator began moving again and brought us back to the ground floor.

Other concern talks about my fatty liver. Everybody seems to be getting fit while I seem to be getting fat, yeah.

Goldie and I celebrated our anniversary last friday. We do have a lot of downs I admit, shedding a million tears and all but still, we rock dude! I still have butterflies in my stomach everytime she kisses me. She never fails to make my heart skip a beat everytime she actually looks at me. She may never know how I really feels whenever were apart - working or just plainly growing apart because this kind of feeling, missing and longing is something I can't express even on writing.

Noisiness is irritating, period.