Scattered Thoughts of Yore

I have lots of scattered notes in my office pc and in bv. Here are some from my office pc.....

28 March 2005

I Love You
Three big words, words that heal, words that kill, words that nurture, line that torture. Words that provoke, and sometimes they do invoke. Sometimes overused, worn out, abused. I hear them often yet seldom feel the essence of it, nor feel the magnitude of its meaning. Where do they lose their value, when do they erode their luster? Why do they have a weight that sometimes is just as light as the breeze and sometimes as heavy and sturdy as something which we cannot define, something hellish yet at times, something divine?

How do we let them sound like it has depth and graveness while at times they have no more meaning at all. Is it the way it is said, or who said it or is it the way we hear?

People say them to mitigate pain, to lessen heartache, to ease the suffering. Sometimes they are used mainly to manipulate. At times they break hearts, other moments they mend broken hearts. At times they make us cry at times they make us weep with joy.

Three very big words. I love you. I, the love, and you.


17 March 2005

I miss being impulsive, being young, being reckless. As we grow older, our movements and responses are always calculated, always protected, often defensive. We protect so much and we lose the value of what it is all about. What do we seek when we move on? What do we gain when we let go?


******
Clouds
Let them move, laden, darken. They are mysterious as we are. Somewhat like the coming of a woman’s period-when the clouds darken, we anticipate rain, when a woman feels heavy, she anticipates her period. Sometimes they meet our expectation, it rains, it floods, we are bleeding. Other times, we are just left to wait and ponder, or even suffer.

*****

The Dichotomies of Falling

I had once you before and we tried to work it out. I know I tried to work it out, so many times in so many efforts. In almost ways you cannot imagine. But they were all left in midair, hanging, dangling, like wind chimes in a front door that has no purpose but it makes some sound, beautiful but almost utterly useless. It was almost like that.

And I in my despairing mood, tried to let go, I tried several times, but I kept giving you the benefit of every chance, maybe you didn’t have the time, didn’t have the chance. But it was not all about you. It was about me too. But it felt like I felt too much for you, it drowned me, every night. I wept until I almost had nothing.


*****
In reckless state, I test my fate to fathom what knowledge is there that I cannot understand. How can the blind see and those with sight can not?

In pedantic idiosyncrasies they surround the world I live in alone, every night when I am lonely and feel no one and hear nothing except the humming of a song deep in my soul, a longing so prolonged, an agony in ecstasy

19 July 2005

My dream

Mountain people with hair on their faces, we were raising some funds for them.

There was waterfalls, in the forest, then there was a very big balloon and I wanted to ride in it. There was a baby clutching my arm, (unfinished)


20 September 2005

The miracle of fate


In the early stirrings of knowing, I stumble without a beat, clumsily, like a child. Gawked, entranced, mystified of the unknown which is almost probably nothing. A child must grow and learn from every heartache. A child must breathe in order to learn how to be an adult, and she must smile in order to know what it is to kiss. When two hearts beat unwillingly, the miracle cannot grow, but the tender knowing that each is there for the sorrow, friendship blooms. When the miracle of fate happens, love appears.

14 October 2005
Are we by nature chameleons? We acquire the same colors as we go through people and form relationships with them? What about our emotions? Do they blend in and merge with the opposite feeler in a relationship? How often do we do this? How long do we keep practicing this until we truly become what we really are and what we really seek to be with someone. Does everyone do the same? I often wonder… These are my thoughts…..

We each live in a limbo of confusion, amazement, wondering whether love is a feeling or a fact, a figment of emotion or something that we conjure to make us become better persons or better friends, better lovers, better than what we are. My thoughts are mainly an offspring of my search for truth, whether in pain or in joy, in lie or in honesty, I still seek. Somewhere out there, someone understands, someone feels, someone is real. Just as I am. I know you are too.


07 April 2005

Would time change emotional connections? Would distance tarnish bonds? Is every hug the same every time? Does every love give a similar pang of pain? Why does it feel like everything is the same, the beginning and the ending of every relationship and all sense in between, the bliss of the first kiss, the sweet caress after a fight, the tender holding of each other when the night beckons them for it, the sweltering heat of passion when the physical union is finally explored, and the tender pain of surrender when we both need to let go of each other. The silence longing when two people are apart, the pain when the heart is broken, the soft whisperings of wanting to be together, the fervent prayer of forgetting. They say love is sweeter the second time around, what about the third time around? Is love a matter of forgiveness? Is it the acceptance of another person’s misgivings, the understanding of the partner’s misunderstanding, or is it the blending of differences? What if wounds do not heal though there is love but cannot reveal and emotions cannot conceal what the body regressively appeal? Which one do you succumb to, the pride or the fear of prejudice, the love or the emotional jaundice or should be just blindly grope for what the body inclines to grip? The more we seek answers the more we tumble into questions. I better shut up before I lose my mind.


*****
In the most remote of all senses, you dwell, in me, unknowingly good. By far, the most sensitive parts of me know that you exist and that we will meet again. I am merely warding off what was before for fear of what may be. Come as you go and leave like strangers in a ship out to a battle of unawares, we linger still, hoping to return and be together with what our hearts truly claim. How often would memories try to arouse us as we lie longing like fools yet falling in love like gods of the Grecian myth.