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Rumbles of L-O-V-E

A lot of things have been going on lately that I sometimes have to pause for a while to absorb all the things I am feeling, all the things I am doing, seeing…

It feels like only yesterday when I decided it’s about time for me to fall (in love) again, and it also feels like yesterday when we were having some of the worst moments of our relationship.

I don’t know how we got here but somehow, here we are… almost one year and a half, and I still believe that FOREVER is what we actually have.

You are the dash to my years,

the in-between to my beginning and my end,

the journey to my here and my there.

I would have wanted to just let go. So scary. So risky. But looking at you, driving that long road in front of us… I couldn’t think of a better man to spend the future with.

You are the dash to my years,

the in-between to my beginning and my end,

the journey to my here and my there.

The what ifs

I am always wondering how different life would have been if I did not wait for you in that stairwell, if you had been too drunk to go to the outing, if I we did not begin chatting, if we weren’t so careless we decided to look first before taking a leap.

But I guess, like many things in my life, I cannot go back nor can I move forward and leave these all behind… or atleast, what remains of my broken, battered heart.

In the deepest, most obscure part of my heart, I am half-wishing half-begging for a sign, for a leap of faith, for some incandescent hope to tell me I belong here… to tell me that I belong with you.

I wanted to shout at you at times… for all the pain and the tears. And yet at just about the same time I want to clobber your head with a hammer, I also want to hug you and own you even for an infinitesimal moment in time. I want to feel, for even a fraction of a second, that we belong with each other, and that this is our time, our moment.

At times like this, I want to kneel in front of you, seize the hems of your pants and beg you to take the pain away, to vanquish the fears, to curb that irresistible urge to walk away.

I want you to ask me to stay.

And yet in my heart, and in my soul, I know we are much too alike to keep this, to nurture it, to make it happen.

And that knowledge, that inconceivable, deplorable thought is the poison that kills me at night.

I am always wondering how different life would have been if I did not wait for you in that stairwell, if you had been too drunk to go to the outing, if I we did not begin chatting, if we weren’t so careless we decided to look first before taking a leap.

But I guess, like many things in my life, I cannot go back nor can I move forward and leave these all behind… or atleast, what remains of my broken, battered heart.

In the deepest, most obscure part of my heart, I am half-wishing half-begging for a sign, for a leap of faith, for some incandescent hope to tell me I belong here… to tell me that I belong with you.

I wanted to shout at you at times… for all the pain and the tears. And yet at just about the same time I want to clobber your head with a hammer, I also want to hug you and own you even for an infinitesimal moment in time. I want to feel, for even a fraction of a second, that we belong with each other, and that this is our time, our moment.

At times like this, I want to kneel in front of you, seize the hems of your pants and beg you to take the pain away, to vanquish the fears, to curb that irresistible urge to walk away.

I want you to ask me to stay.

And yet in my heart, and in my soul, I know we are much too alike to keep this, to nurture it, to make it happen.

And that knowledge, that inconceivable, deplorable thought is the poison that kills me at night.

Office woes

I finally realized na hindi ako maldita. I’m not, contrary to what others might think. Yesterday, as I was lounging around the layout section of our office, regions’ editor called me and chastised me on my problematic sentences. Yes, as in grammar. I would not call myself a “grammatarian” (there’s no such word) but compared to him, I believe I have a better grasp than the English language. As Conrado de Quiros would say, pardon my French, but dammit he’s a stupid, nonsensical, Dugong look-a-like homosexual who’s lucky enough to be given a break.

Fuck it. I bet he wouldn’t even manage to write half of the stories I contribute to The Times. Shit. I’m not even “under” him. Damn.

Magsama-sama sila ng mga “kasama” niyang maldita at mga walang silbi sa company.

Lazy Friday

It’s a fucking SLOW NEWS DAY earlier. I haven’t seen my byline on the paper ever since I came home from Macau (and that’s not for the lack of trying). I am bending over backwards trying to dig deep into Comelec issues these days, but to no avail. My beats are hopeless cases.

Anyway, had a good dinner and talkathon with Dro today. Atleast after almost three weeks of nonstop fighting, we managed NOT to argue on every single issue. And surprisingly, I think he missed me more than I missed him. Shock. Shock. This is actually one of the first time he was so adamant about meeting me. And you know he’s telling the truth when he texts you like this, “I missed you hehe..” May “shy” factor kung baga.

I gave him the shirt I got from Macau (which I told him I bought from Chinatown lol~), the almond cookies and the heart-shaped ashtray from Fisherman’s Wharf (he’ll be giving to Tito Danny, his dad).

I was actually super tired and sleepy earlier when he texted me for a meet-up. But it was never easy for me to reschedule Dro since he’s not always available naman. So whenever he has time for me, I make myself available (kahit hindi naman talaga hehe ^_^).

Anyway, I haven’t finished my blogs for the day. Too lazy to start on it now so maybe I’ll have to wake up a little earlier tomorrow to meet my deadline. Sigh.

Macanese food trippings

As much as I’d like to divulge on how our trip went, I think that post needs a long time to write. So, let’s first go through our three-days of rice-withdrawal (no thanks to the fusion of Macanese and Portuguese dishes that Macau is well-known for).

As expected, we managed to stuff ourselves of coffee and pasta before boarding our evening flight to Macau. <-- Pesto Pasta from Seattle's (Php160)

My food Carbonara from Seattle's (Php160)

First breakfast at Macau c/o Masters Hotel. I never, ever eat runny eggs but because it would be very difficult for me to be "maarte" in Macau and demand for my eggs to be well done, I just refused to eat it. *Macanese are not very good English speakers. You have to really exert an effort for them to understand English.

Our lunch at Nagoyaka Tei in Fisherman's Wharf near the Outer Harbor. Hot Udon (they can serve it cold) and Tempura ($45).

Chicken wings ($30)

We had our merienda at Cafe on Four in Macau Tower. Wondering about the name of the cafe? It's located at the fourth floor. Lol~ yeah I know. Not much ingenuity on there. This is actually their pizza ($15) Yep, they use wheat bread.

Blueberry Cheesecake from Cafe on Four Although it does not look like your usual cheesecake with syrup pouring from all sides, this is actually good, to say the least. ($20)

Iced Cafe Mocha (unsweetened haha!) ($18) By the way, overlooking the window on our right is the Nam Van Lake and the Friendship Bridge connecting Macau City, Taipa and Coloane.

Dinner at Fat Siu Lau. It actually is a Portuguese restaurant with a dingy exterior (since it's located in a small alley on Rua de Felicidade) but a classy interior. The waiter who served us is Filipino My dinner: chicken fillet with onions, etc on top ($85).

Kristia's dinner.. Spicy spicy.. African Hot Chicken ($136).

Did not manage to get the name of this sidestreet restau.. and don't even ask about the food (can't spell, speak or understand it). We only ordered by pointing the pictures on the menu. But in the interest of sounding intellectual, this one's noodle beef brisket. Kristia's lunch ($20).

Spring roll and boiled eggs (na lasang "penoy") ($15)

Noodles with Squid balls (obvious) ($15) We also had lemon water and coke for our drinks. By the way, they actually put ginger on their colas (weird).

Our merienda-slash-dinner: noodles with maling and, yes, that's fried egg. ($15) Unfortunately, didn't manage to get the name of the restau. Was too hungry at that time.

Suffice is to say, we didn’t enjoy our food mega boo~~ we spent more than what we squandered on Bubba Gump (and that, we actually went gaga over).

*All prices are in Macanese Patacas (MOP$ 1 = Php6.23)

Beautiful in my eyes by Jericho Rosales

I know Kristia would probably hate my guts for posting this. I can only imagine what her reaction would be that she would be seeing this, instead of my promised post about our recent trip in Macau.
But anyway, the song is playing here in the pressroom, and my eyes are actually closing on their own will.
So here I am posting a song I fell in love with since I heard it. Never mind that I don’t actually like the artist.

Lunchtime disappointments

I might actually be leaving the country tomorrow with a heavy heart… Sucks, I know. Oh well… I’m used to people failing me anyway.

*Off to SM now to buy Mario’s shampoo. My baby hasn’t had his bath for over a week now.*

Boredom

It’s not that I don’t have anything to do. Right now, I still have five more articles to write for Red, and a Comelec story I am refusing to do for Times. But I neither have the willpower nor the energy to get my hands off from writing this blog to actually working on something that my boss is probably waiting for. I am now even confusing my sentences. A run-on, Carillo would probably tell me.

So as Titanic hums in the background and I’m chatting with Kristia about where we should go for dinner, I am also aimlessly trying to decipher where the next following “days” would lead me. Mind you, it’s not that I don’t know where I’ll be. Kristia and I will be going to Macau on Saturday night. And although I’m kind of excited about it, there’s really nothing left for us to do anymore but wait for our adventure to start.

Now, here we are… both bored out of our wits. With time on our hands, you think we can find something to occupy our lives with. But no… we have always been like this–goalless, spontaneous and generally bored and impatient with everything.

I wonder if I was born to be like this–always floating. In a few more years I’ll be in a period of my life where I cannot escape responsibilities anymore. And isn’t that what I have been doing for the better part of my life? Trying to escape the things I should be facing.

Maybe Kristia and I met for the purpose of mirroring each other. I sometimes see myself in her–pulling hairs, staring at her PC monitor–and I wonder if we can actually take ourselves anywhere with what we’re doing.

One year older… and smarter

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOYCEE!!!

MANY, MANY MORE KA-MALDITAHAN TO COME!

WE LOVE YOU LOTS