I have to get away from you. because I’m scared of two things. First, that I, or we, get used to being friends and ONLY friends. And I’m still hopeful, so that’ll hurt. Second, I might hate you if I stay. I’ve been saying this alot of times, I don’t want to hate. Butyou make me fall for you, and then break my heart, over and over, and over again. Like it’s an everyday thing. I know you’re not aware of it. But you don’t have to be aware. I’m just sooo sorry. I can’t be your friend anymore, because I don’t want to hate you for hurting me, every single day. I want to love you. And I want to remember you as that person I love, that’s why I have to stay away now, before it’s too late.

-

I don’t know what to do either

-

feeler na kung feeler. haha pero alam ko. kahit siya kinakausap mo, kahit siya pinagkakatiwalaan mo, kahit siya ang gusto mo, kahit siya laman ng isip mo, alam kong ako parin laman ng puso mo. XD

di ko alam, baka pagpapakafeel good lang to. pero ayun kung hindi man totoo, ok lang..

basta masaya ako

I love you still. Not because I can’t stop loving you. I can. But I still choose to. Because that’s how love is for me. It’s a choice, it’s a commitment, even if it’s unrequited. It hurts to love like this, but I choose to hurt, rather than not to feel at all. Not that I’ve closed my heart  to anyone else. I have been opening my heart, and hear one or two knocking in, but I can’t love them. I can’t even feel the least bit kilig. Seeing them, inhaling their scent, doesn’t make my heart beat any faster. It’s still you.

And it sucks ‘coz you’re falling for her. And she’s falling for you too. You can’t deny it even if you try to. You just don’t wan to think about it because she’s with someone. but you can feel it, that she longs to be with you. And you long to be with her too. And I feel sooo stupid.

Why the hell can’t I get over you?

I’m forever going to suck at being a friend. Because I’ll love you, and keep falling. all over again.

It would be nice to hear you say you miss me, you love me still, or you’re falling for me again. But it’s not like that. You’ll fall in love with each other, and I’m gonna have to live with that.

Sometimes I still see us together, when I look at the nothingness of space and get lost in my own thoughts. I still see us, laughing together, smiling together. you hugging me, not because I’m crying, but because we’re happy. together. And God oh how much I wish for that. If you would still have me. If you were with me now. Not as I was but as I am now. better, stronger, more independent. I couldn’t have loved you better than I did, but I’m sure, I could be a better person to love. If only you’d see that. If you could only see how much better we could be. But I couldn’t make you see it, that would be wrong. So wrong.

Nah, I’m still not over you. I’ve let go, but I haven’t move on. That’s why it hurts. sooo much. I want to be your friend, but it hurts. I’ll just have to endure that though. I’d rather be your friend even when it hurts. that have you out of my life. like everything we’ve been through means nothing.

Take me in your arms. cloth me. love me.

you can’t.

-

PUTANG INA ANG SAKIIIIIIT!!!!

akala ko makakayanan ko. ngayon, na mas malinaw na, na mas nakikita ko na, na hinihintay ko nalang mangyari talaga. AYOKO NA. ANG SAKIT TALAGA.

mahirap umiyak mag-isa.

better

I feel a whole lot better than how I used to feel. Now, I know why. It brought more blessings than it took away. And you only made me love you even more. You did that for me, even when it was hard, on your part too. To think, yours was the harder part to do. But you had the courage anyway, because you knew we both needed this. And so I thank you. Because you just proved to me that you love me more than I thought you did. Love doesn’t always mean staying together. Sometimes it means having to let go, because it’s for the better. I’m confused about right now. I make myself believe that you don’t love me anymore, so hoping doesn’t lead to disappointment when that time comes that you’d fall inlove with someone else. But my heart is stubborn, it doesn’t want to move on. I’ve moved on in the sense that I stopped mourning you. I stopped being miserable because I know that you’re happy. I just hope that someday you find your happiness with me again. I’m still hoping, no matter how many turnovers, na tayo parin in the end. What you said, about still seeing us in the future, gave me a lot of hope. You may think it gave me something to cling to, to prevent me from moving on, but on the contrary, it helped me move on faster. Because, I want to be in that future already. Where we are, where an ‘us’ will exist again. And you’ll fall in love with me…again. Does that really happen? It happens for some people; I hope  get lucky too. How I wish I’d transfer my acads luck to this.

I miss your smell, the scent of your skin, the scent of your sweater, and the scent of you beside me. Everytime we touch, even if we’re only friends now, even if it might not mean anything to you, your touch still sends shivers down my spine. It’s not like the kilig of a newfound love. It’s that sort that brings back memories. Of how your touch used to feel.

yes. I still love you. But I am truly happy that we’re friends again. So I’m just gonna stick with that. If you fall in love with me again, great. But if not, I have taught myself to be complacent. Knowing you are happy, even if it’s not with me, is reward enough. At least, I hope she’s someone who doesn’t make you want to cry.

But in the end, I still hope she’s me.

The Story of a Lovebird: a tragedy

There I was, perched upon a tree branch as sturdy as my bird bones were fragile. I saw him walking down the sidewalk, like he did every morning. This time I was determined to fly to him and gaze at his tantalizing human eyes. I wanted to search him and I wanted to discover that somewhere deep within his gaze was a person capable of loving a bird. I fumbled trying to fix my feathers; I wanted to look my best for this moment; I wanted him to
notice how such a wonderful bird I am.

Then I swooped down and followed close behind him, tweetering and twattering as sweetly and as loudly as I could that he might hear me and fall inlove with my melodious singing. Nothing happened. Growing impatient, I paced up until I was about five meters in front of him, then very slowly I turned to face him as he walked towards me.
Face to face we were. Then he held out his hand and I landed on his warm palm. The heat radiating from his skin was too much for me to handle. I tilted my head again and again. you see, when birds keep on tilting their heads and looking at you, they’re already deep within your soul, learning the things you yourself have never known.

he looked at me with a parallel intensity, and I couldn’t seem to penetrate his gaze. He battled my eyes with his own as he tried to look deep into mine. Oh, and when he smiled – that sweet smile I see him make each and every morning as I peep inside through his windows – when he smiled I felt my feathers scorched by the flame he’s building up inside of me. He drew me closer to his cheek as he tried to smoothen my feathers with his skin and all I could do was shiver with delight. If only he were a bird, or if only I were human.

He lifted his hand as if to let me fly, and I refused at first. but with all the intensity and hapiness inside me, what can a bird do but fly? don’t humans say they can fly with hapiness? doesn’t hapiness make a human feel as though he was soaring high up in the air? and so i flew! I flew high up in the skies! I flew above the clouds! I flew up to the highest reaches my little wings could carry me for I have never felt such hapiness until we touched.

If it wasn’t for the enormous pleasure this encounter has given me, I would have died with pain when a bullet shot through my wings as they spread foregrounding the sky. down and down I fell but my love for him seemed to wash away all the pain as my vision turned to black and I felt my body hit the ground – the last thing i remember was being carried by a familiar hand – a hand I recognized, but I wasn’t quite sure for the bullet has made a muddle out of my mind.

When I woke up, I was laid across a white satin cloth inside a human bedroom. strange but the bedroom seemed so familiar to me – and then I realized: could it be? could that gunshot have damaged my wings such that I may never know flight again and yet has brought me to this place where I’ll never need to fly again? Just the sight of him could bring me to heights!!

I was in his bedroom and my wings weren’t recovered completely – and I wish they never will that I may stay inside this heaven until the end of my short and happy life.

He entered the room and my spirit burned with all the longing and the frustration. His smile was there and his eyes were as dazzling as usual. but then this human girl followed behind him. they were laughing and they were touching each other and I heard him tell her “let’s do it”

I’m not a human and so I didn’t know what ‘it’ meant, but it seemed to be something good as the girl’s face brightened and she nodded with vehemence – a mischievous look in her eyes.
he too seemed to like this ‘it’. before i knew it, the lights went out and ecerything was dark.

it’s a good thing we birds can see quite well in the dark – it’s an ability i treasured so much coz i can see him inside his bedroom when he slept. this night however was something different. he did not sleep – much less was he alone. when the lights went out i saw him touch his lips with the girl’s, toxic and ravenous, they slanted against each other in a frantic manner. and then he slowly removed whatever covered the girl’s skin. and he removed his as well.. and then I couldn’t describe it anymore – i saw things i’ve never seen before. and yes, i saw him happy and i heard his screams and I heard his pleasure and i saw the girl returning the fervor. they looked so much inlove with each other that all i can do was stare at them. i don’t know if humans can cry coz I’ve never seen him cry and he was the only human i knew – but birds, birds can certainly cry. when birds cry they couldn’t fly, and their voice turns into a croak. how i wished i could’ve sung that night, to let him know i loved him, to let him know i still loved him despite seeing him share such passion with another human, but i couldn’t. when i tried to sing nothing came out. when i tried to fly, i found i couldn’t. and so i stared at them – just looking at them wishing i could get to share that same passion with the human i love. all throughout the night as they lie there without their removable feathers, i kept looking
at him and how I hated his smile that time. I liked it when he smiled but that night was different. but i hated the human girl more. i hated her so much that my hatred gave me strength. then i became strong enough to lift my wings. and i flew to them, landed on the monster’s face and tried to peck at the skin covering her big eyes.

The human’s scream woke him up and he caught me by my neck and threw me out the window – that was the last time i ever saw him, and the last time i felt his touch

i lay at the sidewalk; the heat was back in my chest. the heat of my blood oozing out my thin layer of bird skin consumed my mind, and my white feathers turned to rose petals as the lava flowed out from my veins.

all i ever wanted was to look deep in his eyes – all i ever needed was love – the love of this human. i couldn’t hate him, not even now. in fact i love him even more – i love him more than ever before – i love him with all the love a little bird can offer.

as i lay there, dying, waiting for my last breath, a pair of cupped hands cuddled my blood-soaked feathers and drew me close – close to that human’s heart.

“oh, little bird, i wish i were you! i wish i could fly high up in the skies and make beautiful songs! i wish i had beautiful feathers like yours! I wish i were a lovebird just like you so I can love all I want and have no one to break my heart. but it seems you’re dying little bird… let me see what I can do…”

humans are fools. beautiful feathers didn’t make me any more attractive to him than that human girl, much less when she removed her feathers. beautiful songs can’t tell him how much I love him – to him they are all just mere tweets and chirps. and why fly? why fly up to loneliness when the human I love is here? glued to the ground and fated to remain here forever – as I am fated to die. You stupid human. you can’t do anything; i’ll die anyway, and I’ve accepted that fact – as i’ve accepted the fact that I’ll never be more than just a mass of pretty feathers with cute tweetering to him. to the human I love.

and as i die i can’t help but wish him all the hapiness even if i’m not there anymore. even if i’m not there atop the tree waiting for him every morning, singing to him my song of love – even if he doesn’t understand. i don’t care as long as i know i love him and as long as he is happy.

and the most wonderful thing i envy about humans are lips. they have lips to tell each other how much they love them, though they rarely do so. they have lips to make each other feel their love, yet they use them for fouler things.

and most especially, i wish i had lips that i might at least give him a smile to let him know how happy I am just loving him with all the love a little bird can give.

Countenance

i could not make anything out of the still darkness that peeped through our windows as the
thought gradually took form inside my muffled neurons – It’s finished. thru. there was nothing more to hope for, to look forward to. a wonderful symbol of my childhood has ended and there was nothing more we could do for J.K. Rowling has finally written the final book in the Harry Potter Series. As i read deliberately slowly through the last page, the only thought that struck me was that i didn’t want it to end yet, and all i could focus on were the residual memories that had visited me for the first time – vague, distant memories of how we used to anticipate the next book, or the next movie of HP, and that was back when? 3rd grade? 4th grade? i can’t remember. then something hit me once again for the second succeeding night – the little things i had been sooo attached with when i was young are slowly slipping away, and with them, my childhood. it’s not that i’m losing my hold, in fact, i’m trying desparately, my hardest even, to keep them close, to keep them at my grasp – i did not want to leave the security and the rainbow-colored world of my youth. i did not want to accept the facts as they were. sometimes i end up dreaming about the times back at the province, when i was just a little girl, unaware of the dangers that lurked behind the deceiving masks of a connoving society, and i wish, i wish soooo hard that i wouldn’t have to wake up, that i wouldn’t have to face the fact that i am alone – away, so very far away, from the places of my youth, and how very much i so wanted to stay, and never to grow. sometimes i even feel so engrossed in my dreams, foolish fantasies you might call them, that i lose in touch with reality and walking to school everyday seems exactly llike the way it had been the first time i did it and the places all seem so foreign every single time. there are times, i must admit, that i wish neverland were real. wouldn’t it be nice to have somewhere that didn’t have to force anyone to grow? Now only do i truly understand how Wendy felt like. it must have been hard, as it is for me now, to be forced to mature by every circumstance around you. i don’t want the responsibility that comes with age, i don’t want the wisdom. can’t i just stay young forever? forever innocent? happy? curious? hopeful? blameless? forever lovely in the eyes of my family and everyone else? can’t i just be the little girl everyone so greatly loved forever? can’t i be she who was given the impression as the apple of everyone’s eyes? although i know i still am, somehow, deep within me, buried so close to my heart that the actions seem instant. and i know i’m not making any sense, but that’s exactly what i want to do.. not make any sense, coz it’s when i start doing so do people also start to treat me with sense. and where are the remnants of my childhood? tucked inside leather cases? when they should be with me especially right now when i really need them so? feeling nostalgic – but not of Iloilo, well yeah. but i mean for some greater reason this time.
i feel an awful bit of longing for my childhood, now that’s ariel’s a bubble..

**July 23, 2007

Stereotypes

which stereotype are you? pardon me for using the word stereotype, and all its “branch”-words, more than enough to annoy you, but it is what this post is all about, and there is no other word in my shallow vocabulary that could possibly replace it. so. this isn’t any PHD certified article.. i just made this up so you’re gonna have to trust me on this one.. i know for some people, it isn’t really desirable to be stereotyped, but fact is fact and the world is truly massive so you can be 99.99 percent sure that there is atleast one person who has atleast 25% the you factor in them.. the numbers are made up so don’t bother questioning me if you’re some darn good mathematician.. well, [more than] enough introduction… bam!

MAIN STEREOTYPES

1] goths – goths are introvert people who like dark poetry and black roses. they usually dwell on the supernatural. extreme behaviour may include the following: witchcraft practice; satanic devotions; black mascara; lolita goth make up; hair dyeing; permanent tattoo [btw, did you notice that the xxx tattoo at the back of xxx's neck in xxx2 is fake?];

2] nerds/geeks – a lot of people are smart, but few are actually proud to be one. now, there are multiple intelligences which i’m sure you’re aware of, but we’re talking about mental intelligence here… in any possible field.. there are music geeks, science geeks, mechatronic geeks, frog geeks, anything imaginable.. but there is a slight difference between a geek and a nerd.. nerds only posses the mental capacity, geeks, on the other hand, also posses skill.

3] potential leaders – these are the people who excel and stand out early in life.. but not all of them.. there are hundreds, even thousands of influencial people, which i’m sure you can name a few, who, let’s just say, didn’t exactly start right. but that doesn’t mean that if you repeated third grade four times, you’re assured of a slot in the presidential cabinet. take ERAP for example. potential leaders realize their capability when put in dire circumstances. it is pressure that heats them up to the level they deserve.

4] punks – my very own role model Avril Lavigne, used to be a punk. i believe things have changed since her debut single, complicated. but the main point is that punks are usually stereotyped as non-responsible young adults on wheels, and that excludes cars. they usually dress in baggy clothes with backward caps or beannies.. some punks may choose to engage in punk music, with electric guitars, drums, and lyrics overruning with the inevitable teenage angst.

5] goody two-shoes – they are the closest things to perfection. i prefer to use the word things since they are more robot than human. and that’s perfection in a good way. the “perfect” example would be Haley from The American Dragon shown in dsney channel. these people seldom make mistakes, and they make it necessary to cross the word “wrong” from their vocabulary. they are the sweet ballerinas, and the pious mama’s boys. however, almost 85% percent of the universal population know that no one/nothing can be perfect, but if there’s a pimple, there’s always cover up, and the goodies- two-shoes have more than enough “make-up” to cover up some common “bacterial colony”.

6] idealists – aahh.. the hopeless romantics, and other types.. these group of people are the most susceptible to heartbreak. they have a very wide range of imagination, and very high standards. idealists don’t usually get their happy endings, but they do spend their entire story attempting to have one. kudos to the fiction book lovers and literary writers! you belong here…

7] elites – the rich and the famous. this group ma include those surrounded by papparazis or those surrounded by body guards.. elites usually enjoy a luxurious lifestyle with the least amount of work that money can afford. some elites may prove to be very concerned individuals and others may just lack the blessing of a kind heart. in either case, they may have earned the money through calories and iron, or inherited the money through blood and genes, but that still makes them eligible to be called the piggy banks of society…

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