(un) fettered

it is too small for me, this thing you call life.
i have tried blending in only to find myself
confined, claustrophobic, suffocated into non-being

i find myself breaking into sweat, forming fluid-filled thoughts
of doubt and compromise, of drowning into conformity
fabricated existence, desperation crawling out of every orifice

breathing in. breathing out. stretching every breath to make it last.
to make it last. to make it count. count for what?
everything they write of, sing for, and bleed into, eludes me

i see you at night

i see you at night,
the curve of your back
and hear the weight of your cold-harried, well-worn step

i see you at night,
staring from the corner of your eye
furrowed brows creating undecipherable valleys between chocolate-colored romance

i see you at night,
endless waterfalls of curls and waves
covering thought and reaching out through unbreachable space

i see you at night,
standing still, moving all the same
creating turmoil in the wake of a missed opportunity to meet, to speak, to love

Who would've known we'd get silver? Junior Delphic Games

The Delphic Games is an international competition for the arts. It's relatively young, 10 years old, but aims to end up becoming the art equivalent of the Olympics. We joined the competition as representatives of the Philippines for the free percussions category. (Jaimar, Chai, Ate Klara, Myx, Kuya Jayson, Rhea, Regh, Me, and Frey)

Our performance doesn't stick out to clearly in my mind. A 13.5 minute piece we crammed for in a week doesn't really get you emotionally attached. But we sure didn't think we were going to win anything. We went against 4 Korean teams who were clearly joining the competition to win. (We were happy just being part of the whole event) It seemed our well-worn gamelan instruments paled in comparison to their big and shiny drums. But we gave it our best and hoped it would be enough to make Sir Edru proud. (Yun lang naman talaga goal namin eh. Pasayahin si sir at wag pahiyain ang KG)

The audience said we did great. Although the only ones I heard clapping were the Koreans. There were a few giggles when we did the Tongatong dance, Yogad. It's funny they thought we were Vietnamese or something and some of the locals were surprised that we had Gangsas in our ensemble.

We went out that night after watching the unbelievably lame Time&Transformation concert. We went to Oh My Gulay only to find out it was closed and decided to head to some pub where the drinks were expensive and the music was so-so. We got drunk on laughter and were lucky not to get kicked out for all the noise we made.

The next day, we were asked to do a repeat performance but Sir decided to have us do our usual KG repertoire instead. (Thank God.) The audience was much more appreciative this time. Things went pretty well except for the fact that I lost my bulalakaw in mid-dance. Ah yes, the things I do just because I love performing. The show must go on right?

That night, we watched the concert the Koreans prepared. It changed the way I see Koreans. I mean, yes they're invading the country by hordes but all the culture they have, the history of their art, the way they continue to love it and pass it on is just so inspiring that I can't help but have a new vantage point from which to view them now. After, we went to Oh My Gulay only to be disappointed once again so we went on an ukay-spree instead. (P50 duffel bag vs P150 duffel, P100 fur-lined boots, animal toe socks, and "ukay" redefinition)

Special mention of The 50's Diner where frey brought us is in order. My goodness! That place was food heaven. Servings were giant-sized and incredibly cheap. I'll upload the pics later on.

Our last day in Baguio was probably the best one we had in the competition. We headed the first part of the interaction between delegates. City High students came in droves asking questions and begging not to be left with a Korean delegate. We talked to the Samulnori Band members and despite the language barrier were able to make friends with them, exchanging email adds and going around the hall with them. It's funny they remembered us from the free percs competition because they were amazed about us putting on make-up backstage.

Kuya Jayson was the star of the show when almost everybody started congregating around his drums. People were jumping on stage and the high school students started exchanging songs and chants with the Koreans. Sung kept explaining the songs to Regn and me, "Traditional Korean Song" "Soccer...Cup...Cheer?". I was disappointed with the Filipinos, however, who just kept singing Wowowee songs. *sighs*

That night, the awarding took place. The performances were amazing. We had no idea we were going to get 2nd place (we had inside information that the Korean judge was extremely unfair and biased against us). It still hasn't sunk in. We got 2nd in an international competition. I look at the medal now and can't seem to muster much emotion about it.

I went there to experience something that I wouldn't have the chance to experience elsewhere. The prize seems irrelevant now. All I'm really happy about are the moments I had with my friends and the people I got to meet there. What an experience.

who knows if the moon's

words have become scarce in the wake of indolence. allow me to borrow, then, those of ee cummings in the hopes that tomorrow the world will once again give me a reason to write. enjoy.

who knows if the moon's

who knows if the moon's
a balloon, coming out of a keen city
in the sky--filled with pretty people?
(and if you and i should

get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we'd go up higher with all the pretty people

than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody's ever visited,where

always
it's
Spring)and everyone's
in love and flowers pick themselves

buhay buhay

I've come to realize that writing in this blog is only appealing when there's something else I should be doing like, for example, studying for an exam. It's ironic really. Now that I have nothing to do, I do nothing.

So here I am, forcing myself to write just so the hinges don't get rusty. There's something there. Something that wants to be unearthed and exposed to the world that is literature but I have yet to find the energy and motivation to dig it up.

Ah. To be young and lazy. 'Tis bliss.

unslaked

The urge to move you, pushes air out of my lungs.
I want to make you feel.

Passion.
Guilt.
Love.

The urge to touch you, forces lids to tightly shut.
I want to have you understand.

Commitment.
Compromise.
Love.

The urge to keep you, strains my fingers to trembling.
I want to let you see.

Pain.
Trust.
Love.

The urge to love you is too strong.

If wanting, spent and refilled, were our basis, you would be borne on clouds
to my feet, left there to bathe in caresses and breathless whispers

Of love
Unbidden,
Ignored.

of strange encounters and lost possibilities

it was the light that night,
the light dancing steady in your eyes.

it was the weight of your stare;
palpable on my shoulders as i continued to move.

it was the slowing of my blood
as i turned on my back, catching my breath.

it was the heat and cold mixing;
and i fought, composing myself to remain calm under your gaze.

it was an intensity, unmatched.
i couldn't bring myself to meet the questions stirring behind your mask.

homage to the great poet

Pablo Neruda, one of the greatest poets to have held pen to paper. I just wanted to share this with whoever might take the time to read this blog. enjoy. I hope you end up loving him, Neruda, as much as I do. ^__^


I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

i miss you guys

how does it happen exactly, the parting of friends? it seems so long ago when i was part of your life. and yet, when i think of you, nothing has changed. i remember. and yes, maybe it's an imperfect memory. details blurred. dates mixed and tangled. the telling is always different. but maybe that's what makes it so priceless. treasured stories of each other we keep hidden in shoe boxes, in books that accumulate with dust, in pages we turn over and over again. an attempt to recapture moments. different for each of us. we take away only what we found beautiful and worthwhile. sometimes, it's a small thing. but with us, it was always entire days of images flashing through the mind.

remember we promised to always be there for each other? remember those crazy ideas of opening a shop together? something for everyone right? (which for us meant food) but how could we possibly be good at that when we were too busy enjoying ourselves? and so the plan bloomed, involving the paths we chose to take. nurses and a doctor for a hospital, and a lawyer for all the screw-ups we were bound to make.

but dreams like ours have a funny way of remaining just that, dreams. i don't know anymore what you do during your free time. i don't know what drove you insane today. or what crazy new inside joke you have. we have different lives and different people have come to fill the roles we used to have with each other. a new laugh. a new set of arms to fall into.

i miss you guys.

still

a jumble of fingers:entwined, hands:crossing, arms:draped
a mixture of body against warm body:mingling in the heat

no lines, rather contours. hips:merging, legs:interlaced
breath dwelling only narrowly in crevices left between

a mirroring of slow steady movements:shifting of weight
a dance of mirrored forms nestling snugly into place

i lie content, barely aware of your presence alongside mine
boundaries:blended:blurred:one