MYMP (Make You Mine Papa)

I accidentally found this video on youtube and I can't help but be envious..

In my next life, want to be reincarnated as Juris.

The voice... the fame.. and the husband!... Oh, I sooo wanna have them!

Steamy lonely Saturday

Rainy Saturday afternoon... I'm home alone.

I'm feeling kinda sexy...

Locked the room and played Paula Cole's "Feelin Love"

Gosh! I wanna smoke... and have a glug of bourbon.. and striptease!!! hahaha..

STOP ME!!!! hahaha...

Why I write...

There’s not much work to do today while I was in the office. So I read some entries I posted way back and laughed whenever I see errors or cheesy things I wrote. However, I didn’t change those because I felt like they were part of my development. I wasn’t born a writer so why should I be expected to write perfectly? And then I thought of why I like to write and I was able to come up with a little something. I just thought It was somehow creative so I’m posting it here:

When the heart is heavy and the eyes are clouded with tears,

When the chest would want to burst but the mouth could not speak loud enough to be heard,

I would seek solitude and confess through a pen and paper.

When the head is cluttered with thoughts and never-ending questions,

Or when the soul is in ecstasy because of a certain situation,

I would pen them down and note my life’s progression.

These are the reasons why I love to write.

Even if sometimes they don’t make sense,

I still transcribe with confidence!

(one of) The Other Guy(s)

We had dinner…

Drunk two bottles of liquor and talked for a moment…

We then headed home to my apartment…

We kissed, undressed each other, partook in some wet pleasures, and subsequently quivered as we reached the key moment of our bodily desires…

As the other went out of the room, I went into a remorseful juncture and messaged my partner “Sorry I texted late… I had to finish some office stuff. I Love You…”

Guilt trip!

Thoughts101.3

When we love, we get hurt. We get hurt because sometimes our partners don’t treat us the way we want to be treated. Then we engage into  fights with them. We blame them for their misbehavior yet we often forgive them for their transgressions and we hope that they will change for the better. However, when the change we are expecting them to do doesn’t come, maybe it’s time to fight with ourselves and blame us for letting them do it to us. When we feel we are not treated right, tendency is, we  really are being oppressed. By then it’s time to do something for ourselves. We should be brave enough to let go and move on. After all, we should not settle for less than what we deserve.

Hey Puppy Love..

Hey, I thought that it’s unlikely  that I’m thinking about you today.

Unusual but it felt so familiar I can’t help but loiter at the lounge of this emotion.

I remember when we were still babyish we played like there’s no tomorrow.

Those were the days of marbles, cotton candies, and never ending childish delights.

Can you still recall back in high school when you held my hand as we ran towards home one rainy afternoon?

From that day onwards I knew we had something special- I knew you and you knew me more than anyone else.

We started to talk about tomorrow like we had a clue and we built our dreams around each other like we were certain we’d be together forever.

And then something terrible happened- I can’t quite recall.

But it tore us apart… and our story was cut short by that unfortunate, disastrous, ill-timed event. 

Thirteen years after, I saw you again yesterday with your little boy- and he looked just like you!

You’ve clearly moved on as I have. And notably, you went on to realize the dreams we dreamed together- with someone else!

I’m happy for you and I know you are happy for me too. 

However, I am not certain if we can still say so if we would think about yesterday and how we could have ended up together, had only we were stronger.

Today, I look forward to a brighter future… But I’m keeping precious memories. Your smile, your scent, the roses, the letters, the sweet nothings… I will always remember.

Mirror, mirror...

This happened 22 years ago but I can still remember it lucidly (Parang it happened five minutes ago lang. hahaha!) Anyway, here’s the story:

Kakagising lang namin ng sisterette  ko nun, mga bandang  4 ng hapon (Kasi yung lola namin nagwawala kapag wala kaming siesta kaya ayon wala kaming magawa kung ‘di pumikit at magkunwaring natutulog hanggang sa tuluyan na nga kaming maidlip). Nag-iinuman sina Pudra sa labas kasama ang mga kumpare nyang walang magawa sa buhay kundi ang lumaklak ng alak at tumira ng pulotan. Palibhasa bagong dating si Papey galing abroad ng mga panahong iyon at marami pang anda! Kaya ayun! Todo lagok ang mga batugan.

Paglabas namin nang bahay ay naglalaro ang ibang pinsan namin sa labas ng piko (mga apat silang mga malalanding batang babae!). Sasali na sana kami nag biglang nag-iba ang peg nang mga mujer! Gustong maglaro ng “Miss Universe” at  eto pa ang matindi- dapat daw kasali ako! Tumanggi ako nung una kaso ayaw nilang pasalihin si sisterette pag hindi ako sumali kaya nagalit si sisterette sabay sambit na sasali ako (ang kakapal nang apog nang mga babaeng yun hindi man lang natakot na kabogin ko sila!).

Kaya ayon “May I roll-up my purontong hanggang maging panty-shorts ang dating” mode ako. I was Candidate #5 representing Brazil at todo rampa ako sa may gilid ang kalye sa tapat nang bahay namin. Kung sa rampa lang, wala silang binatbat sa’kin! Taob na taob ang mga lola! 

Kasunod na yung talent portion at lahat nung nauna sa’kin ay kumanta. Para maiba ako, pinili kung sumayaw ng lambada. Naaalala ko tuwang-tuwa sila habang nagsasayaw ako. Todo kembot at sipa ang beki ng may biglang humablot sa kamay ko sabay hampas nang malakas sa pwet. Biglang tigil ako at napalingon. Kasindak-sindak ang mukha ni Pudra nang nakita ko sabay sigaw sa akin ng “Paaasssooooookkkkk!!!!”. Hindi pa nakuntendo at panay hampas pa sa pwet ko habang papasok kami sa loob ng bahay.

Ang sermon ni Fatheeer: “Bakit ka sumasali dun? BAKLA ka ba? Hindi ka bakla! Lalaki ka! Lalaki!”. Iyak ako ng iyak nun kasi masakit na masakit ang pwetan ko sa lakas nang hampas nang kamay niya. Medyo may kalasingan na din kasi si Papsey nuon. Gusto kung sumagot nang “Akala mo lang lalaki ako pero hindi! Hindi! Hindi!” (Vilma Santos at Carlo Aquino lang naman sana ang peg! Hahaha!). Pero wala na akong magawa nang sumigaw na ng pautos ang Papa Chen ng “Akkyyaaaattttt!!!”.

Dun sa kwarto sa itaas binuhos ko ang sama nang loob ko. Dun ko unang nalaman na sadyang iba ako. Iba ako pero hindi ito maintindihan nang ama ko. Pero ano ang magagawa ko? Anak lang ako at dapat akong sumunod sa kanila. Kaya lang, pano ako bilang ako? Sino ba ang dapat na sumaya at sino ang dapat na mamroblema? 

Sa kalagitnaan nang pagngawa ko napatingin ako sa salamin. Tumayo ako at napatigil sa pag-iyak… Ngumiti. (Baliw?!).. Tinitigan ko ang aking sarili sa salamin at sinimulan kung sumayaw ulit ng lambada. Dun, sa loob nang kwarto natapos ko ang aking “talent portion”. Wala mang ibang nakakita pero alam ko walang sinabi ang mga batang babae sa labas na lantarang ipinapakita ang kanilang galing sa natatago kung galing. Ang galing at tunay kong pagkatao na nailabas at na-appreciate ko… sa harap ang salamin sa loob nang kwarto!

P.S.   I may sound so gay in this writing but trust me, you would never hear me say these words in person. Nagagamit ko lang ang mga kaek-ekan na mga salitang ito within the confines of this blog. Hahaha…