Friday, March 24, 2006


For the first time in what seems like ages, I woke up today and the pain wasn't there.

I've been having trouble waking up lately. It's because of all the ghosts that haunt me while I'm asleep. They cradle me in their lifeless arms and stroke my hair back with such vicious force that patches of it are ripped off. They do it as if to say I will never be free. And when my feet are cold from the frost that flows from every fiber of their existence, they begin to chant in a voiceless whisper. Kalusa Indir Lahid. Their bodies, at first gentle and wispy beside me, become heavy. Kalusa Indir Lahid. They throw my body to and fro, faster and faster, as their murmuring turns to shrill cries of glee. Kalusa Indir Lahid. The unknown that once stroked my hair turns and with his touch slowly tightens my locks around my neck. Kalusa Indir Lahid. I am frantic but my eyes remain shut. Kalusa Indir Lahid. I choke but consciousness remains distant. Kalusa Indir Lahid. They bind my arms and I thrash from the pain of the stories they continue to whisper. Kalusa Indir Lahid. I submit.

And finally, mercy of mercies, I awake and they disappear, leaving only a faint chill on my arms. And at that moment of blessed silence, I remember the pain of the tales they weave, the memories they desecrate with their laughter and nothing is left as their misery engulfs me. Nothing is left as my mind screams from the burden of knowing. I am reduced to emptiness as my soul cringes from the day I must face without the comfort of the hopes they had uttered so violently in my sleep. It was all a dream. You were just a dream. And now the world rushes to claim me in its version of reality.

But for the first time this morning, I woke up and the pain wasn't there.

May your nights be safe from curses and may your dreams be free of me as I pray mine would finally be free of you.

Sunday, March 12, 2006


the clouds conspire with the stars
as they brood over the doings of mankind;
speaking of devils they've hidden under the earth;
talking of the changing of the leaves;
laughing about Luna's vanity;
and whispering,

whispering of the tiny figure in the middle of the field
crying out to the void around her;
sobbing out in a language that created all that is;
begging desperately for courage as she
chokes on the bitter tears that only the dimmest hope can give.

i'm not sure yet. but i think this may be my last post for a very long while. there are some things that are too important and too sacred to sell for a couple of poems or maybe a few good stories. this time, i'll let it wash over me. this time, the words will have to wait. this time, i'll say it: out loud, to his face, with tears streaming down, and nothing holding me back. it's about time i learn what it means to be strong. thank you for telling her that. "si car ang pinakaimportanteng tao sa buong mundo." maybe next time i post, he'll understand what it means. hope never ends where love never fails.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

In a world of eight billion people, it is unforgivable that so many feel so alone.

I like to think that I haven’t been posting because I’ve been to busy. I’ve been too busy with school. I’ve been to busy with joining rallies. I’ve been to busy with friends. I’ve been too busy with life in general. But right here, in the core of everything that drives me, I know that I’ve been lying to myself.

I can’t post. I can’t write. I’m not strong enough to be alone will that my heart has dammed up inside it.
At night, I find I can no longer sleep. I dread the time just before slumber overtakes me. Because it is then that I am overcome by the emotions I tried so hard to fend off. I am defenceless. I am weak. And I let loose a rain of tears that do not console. I allow the sobbing to wrack my body knowing it will ease nothing.

What is there for me to look forward to when everything I have ever believed to be important is failing me? They will never make-up. Nothing will heal the scars that they have inflicted upon each other. My family will never again be whole. And you, the last beacon of hope, have grown distant. It won’t be long before you tell me the true reason for your indifference. It won’t be long before I tell you that I have known all along.

One by one, they will move on to what joys they have already seen in the horizon. And I will be left here, nursing the wounds that all of them have, without shame or hesitation, given me. I will be left here drowning in the noise I will create for myself. I will be left here, dreading the solitude that will come and the anguish that is its partner.

“‘Til the wheels fall off”, remember we copied that off that lousy movie? What now when the wheels have all gone off?