A LADY’S BLOG ABOUT… “READ IT”

July 9, 2011

Saturday

9:44:25 pm

My mind right now is in total state of insanity. I don’t know what to say. I.. don’t... know... what.. to say. I don’t know what to say anymore when a friend of mine just told me that maybe I really don’t love him and he’s not also into me. He told me not to believe him anyway because it was just his opinion, though it’s messing up my whole system and I, for sure, am terrible at this moment plus this colds I have is getting on my nerves since last week. I don’t want to cry because I don’t like to see me crying with such a never-ending-story-of-him-and-me-ever-since-kindergarten. It’s pathetic. Yes, it is. No way to find anything at this moment to make me laugh or even just smile because the friend who does that for me is the same guy who said “he doesn’t love you”. Oh my God, so I’m over reacting or what? Somehow, I felt some kind of weird intuition that I’m not in love with the former but it was like a wonderful thing to know that the guy was making me feel that I love him and that he loves me too. Well, there are times when I don’t think about him (the guy). True. There’s a part in my head which would convince me he is not… but to tell things straight my heart says he is, plus the other part of my head that actually made him weighed more. I planned to make the right thing but I’m afeard of knowing the fact that maybe he is not for me… “Maybe I really don’t love him. Maybe he’s not my exception… he’s just the rule per se, just one of the experiences. Cute experience.” My friend told me that he doesn’t want to hurt me but he’s actually doing it right at the moment he told me so, right after those words came out from his thought and put into typing. I failed to tell him that it’s fine, that what he has done was part of being a true friend, that there’s nothing to worry if I drooped and sighed for anxiety thinking about what he just told me. “If I were to wish one thing right now… I want him to be the exception. I want him be mine.” Instead of saying that it was quite poetic, my friend said I shouldn’t be thinking about that because it’s not actually going to be a happy ending. My friend has his concerns for the rest of the friends he has and I’m probably one of his top concerns at this moment for maybe I’m in love and I need to be cautious in whatever decisions I may come up with. Appreciation was all I can give because gratitude is neither a piece of idea in my mind, there’s got to be somewhere along the time when I realize that he was true. “I ♥ you, Mister Spiderman,” it’s a statement I photographed to be my wallpaper thingy. And he was the Spiderman I’m talking about, he was forever tattooed in me wherever he goes and whoever I go mingling with. Because after all those times he wasn’t with me and with that girlfriend he has, after all the guys who became part of my life, after all the missed hours we haven’t done anything, he’s been on my mind, inserted, as if telling me ‘don’t forget me yet, I’ll come back for you… I’m just finding my time’.

Yet, I really have to face the fact that there is the possibility of – you love me or you don’t love me, after all. Goodbye.

BYGONE

All alone I saw the set of the sun,

'twas still blazing like the roadrunners run.

Wandering thoughts from a pilgrim within.

Watched what's the next connection from what's been.

Teardrops to my cheek;

a hungry brain and a heart so sick.

And all alone I saw the set of the sun;

it seemed from me, it shunned.

Busybodies all around so stressed;

the nagging of a whole day's non-rest,

to learn and to earn stipend,

remuneration from a moil's spent.

I got weary and left alone.

Playing with leaves wind-blown.

But never mind, they never mind

just intoxicating but never mind...

Tilted head I stared again...

Beneath those canopy a yen.

It shouted and roared through my nerves;

and bounced back the earth's curves.

Red roses and white ones,

I want those mine be mine at once.

With tilted head I stared again...

Yet they're not coming back again.

The dust covered the mobile clouds;

chain of islets along with mounts.

I could not see anything the least

just tinted chain on my wrist.

I didn't understand the fall,

I fell several times before.

But what hurt the most was that --

the last fall with gore so glut.

The rain dropped as my wound bleed,

like over-poaching pain I can't get rid.

Over the escarpment and plateau

my mind kept wandering to and fro.

Wind whistled with rushing waves; I pry,

thunder rolled across the heavy sky.

Still the rain dropped as my wound bleed.

Melancholy. Silence. I pondered and ceased --

from everything that burdened me.

I stood alone --- Reality!

O! It tingled, flowed my veins..

no more sick heart and hungry brains.

I wiped the teardrops from my cheeks;

while sung the bird with yellow beak.

Apocryphal, yet it was true -

I learned living without you.

CHANGE --- was all thou can ever give.

Even I could never believe.

It's modern and possessed consistency.

Gradually, it'll be a part of the economy.

See through the cleat firmament;

I see my heart filled with content.

And change is what the world can give,

it bruised and caused a lot of grief!

Oblivious, but sure, I got pretty insane.

I don't used to waste my penny for useless cocaine.

But done were those days I cried,

I sat in the meadow -- deprived.

Along with the flowers alive,

they're dandelions revived!

Because now my sorrows all dead,

I buried them six feet, I said.

Long was the night but 'nconstant;

long was the hopeless wishing grant.

Sun rises, then it sets.

Life goes on, but with a lot of frets.

Life goes on -- with me alone.

Cold as the ambiance of the winter dawn,

yet long was the night but 'nconstant;

long was the helpless wishing grant.

Tomorrow I see a future so nigh

together with the years came by.

Let alone the blissful mem'ries I had

that pained me terribly bad.

Let alone those memories they stay,

until the time I come to lay.

In a sepulcher with wide array;

and, I'll whisper it was then OK.

And, I'll whisper soft and slow...

My past was worth my way to go.

The Girl

In front of me was a cup filled with a hot soup. It seemed to torture my lips and my tongue every time I made a sip from it. On my right side was my book by Clare Clark and on my left was my as-if-telling-me-pay-me-heed cell phone. Outside the skies were crying, outstretching their pleas, uttering the thoughts they have as their grains drop on the leaves barely defying it due to less surface tension, and I, unfathomably dead serious, am falling. But just don't know to either which hand I shall be caught.

"Mid - September year twenty ten, you held me by your arms tight yet gentle, whispered me singsong strings of words beneath your breath, murmured something I hardly understood, remembered the auld lang syne sweet and mellifluous. I can feel the sentiments as the warm belch of breath from your mouth dumped against my neck and some area of my shoulder...

There was a moment pause in my preoccupied head. Around me was the nagging of life's facts, the overwhelming conscience, the need to create a master piece of my own, pressure of the wind pressing off my body temporarily making me busted and numbed. This place is dire enough to roam around. This place is full of insecurities, resentment and anguish. A moment still. There, on the corner, I saw a figure blurry but of a resemblance of an idiocy. My eyes curiosity brought my system to entire rapture of the thing I had seen. I couldn't figure out what's making it fuzzy, was it the thing itself or were those stubborn eyes. I peeped closely...

..suddenly, you were half - way out the door, your vivid attention intently searching something in me. Aye! You wanted me to say my last words for you. I had forgotten that you were just holding me that night to equipped myself with higher concentration on how to live life ALONE without thee, without you loving me anymore. I couldn't defy the urging eruption of abrupt intervention on such impeccable quiet night."

My body was already near the figure on the corner. She was sobbing. She kept on tapping her chest as if telling, "It has to be OK". On the left side was a beeping phone, the other side caught my interest... It was a book laid open and undone. As I stared closely, I literally drooped and got knocked off by a strong impression of reality. The girl went on from the I-pity-myself-but-I-have-to-cry situation which was intolerably devastating and alarmingly not kidding. I knew from that time that the crying lass was me, a fresh reflection of me for the passed almost two years that he came up, and gave me his willful GOODBYE.

LONG GONE AND MOVED ON

Really you find things so hard when the one you used to love, who used to love you back, who gave his time for you with no manner of favor in return, has become someone you barely know, and someone who hardly notices you.

But what you really don’t know is that, what makes it hard is the thought you have that you're no longer paid attention at, no more caress and sweet stares anymore. The thought that no matter how effortful your getting - the -pieces - back - together acts the damage will remain as is. What’s only left is letting go..

Letting everything be as what it is ought to be. Mention that you are in love, but being in this critical state needs practicality, commitment to your welfare and not just being contaminated with idiocy. Forget how prior as usual was. Because what matters before doesn’t now. Forget not that you still have yourself. Pity you if it's forgotten.

Remember you've lived for as much as how many years you've grown before you knew him, so living another years without him is not as hard as announcing martial law. Leave him with his decision. Make a stand. Neither make a plea nor make a cry - on - cue thingy and never make anything you will feel embarrass of in the latter. Someday you would see that it's worth the forgetting and letting be, because all of these are safe things you should consider to deviate your heart from further pain.

A letter from a FORLORN child

There is so much gladness in my heart, yet nobody cares to wonder. 

I’ve been with myself for fourteen years now. I stayed in an orphanage where almost everyone bullied me, stamped me on my left foot, punched me on my head, said something rude about my parents. They don't know how I felt, why I've become so dull yet not frustrated. 

The rush of the wind tells me they love me, which they never wanted to desert me; they just have some sorts of privities they don’t like to discuss with me because even if they did, I still can’t and won’t understand. In every breath that I inhale and in every sound of the morning sunshine that rises me up something wants me to seize it and hold it by my hand, mark it on my head.

I scrunched it. Make myself feel hopeful and full of bliss.
 

At every air slapped in my face, I feel the desperation of their longing kiss and warm touch, afraid that one day, they might lose me because of my fragility but of course, I am not, it stayed as is on their thoughts because they love me.

I have chains of letters for them yet not mailed. Few of those were having the same content for the activities here which were perfunctory. Incessantly, I dream of my Pa and Ma together with their child (that's me). We did what normal family does. 

The touch of these dreams wary enough to tell me that it's true, that somehow deep within the realms of their hearts they want me too. I longed so much to breathe the vast bowl of the sky, to feel the jostle of the streets stretching my loose nerve - strings and quickening the flow of my blood. I love to be with them standing in the meadow, reaching out our hands and figuring out the music that comes from the dancing wind, which hits the tall grasses. There, across the brook, we, convulsed by merriment, listened to the cold breeze nourishing our hungry minds, repeating the words ‘we are one’.

Suddenly, realization came to play that I was alone today and will always be, I hope not.

Days would come that they'll come back to me, arranged everything that comforts me, straight things up, make the best to lay me down their protective arms, embraced their child gently and make up with all the wasted times I just watched the dark skies alone, sang the songs forlorn, and dreamed my dreams on my own.

 Ma and Pa, please bear with the obstinate time. 

I need you too. I'm your child.

Maureen 'URE' Ortega