Raptured 

Perhaps it is true; no amount of words could sufficiently supply the feeling of being in complete astonishment, tranquility, and excitement.

From the moment she sent a text message asking me to turn around, even in the moment we parted ways in the morning, to this day, I am trying to make clear: is this what God talked about when He made the universe, placed the planets in their respective orbits, shaped the mountains in such a way that the sun would kiss them every morning and every night, calmed the waters of the earth so as to make its soil worth living- when everything grew entirely as perfect as he said it must be?

I have a certain default to romanticize things; however, I tell you, the 10th of February was an early Valentine adventure.

I was utterly clueless with her schemes. I must say Franzes is an expert at making her plans run the smoothest. She studies in Manila and I in Los Baños. She had to ride the bus and even travel steep roads just to visit me! What have I done to deserve her, really?

I had a 2:30 to 4:00 PM class and before my class even began, she told me she wanted to take a nap. When it ended, I sent her a text about a book sale (I love hoarding books and reading them when I have the time) held at one of the colleges in my campus. She replied right away asking if I’m already at our fair. It took a couple of minutes before she showed up and a couple of text messages, as well. When I told her that we (Sophia, my friend, and I) were about to go to the Freedom park, she sent me a text asking me to turn around. I did, even as I was confused (I am not being pretentious here, I really had no idea). I did not know what or who to look at; nevertheless, I did turn around. Behind the crowd of other people in their own businesses, I found her.

I wish someone out there captured how intensely fast my heart beat raced. In that moment, nobody mattered but her presence and the distance between us both- how it was so little, and how it grew even more minimal as I wrapped my arms around her.

I seldom get to hug her. I seldom get to hold her this close. I seldom get to see her beyond my blurry cellphone screen. This is her. This is me. Together.

This is where it begins.


Still in shock, I asked my friend, Sophia, if she knew- and she did! Franzes asked her concerning our whereabouts. I learned, as well, that Franzes arrived inside the campus at 3:00 PM! She had been roaming around for an hour just waiting for me to finish my last class.

This is the kind of person I want to be with for as long as I’m alive- even after life, if it’s possible. Sure, she has flaws and all that, but her beauty- inside and out- surpasses all imperfections the world made of her. Don’t get me wrong, I knew this before the surprise of hers even happened. She just continues to prove to me how lucky I am to have her.

 

1. We rode the ultimately fast turning ferris wheel.

2. We played the dart game! I was a first timer lol it was this game where you had to throw darts (of course) at the balloons placed on the wall. Every balloon you pop equals to a point. We totalled more than 25 points! I thought we were playing for fun but she exchanged the points for a cute purse she gave me.

3. We rode another ride (caterpillar, I think). I enjoyed it so much- we were laughing the whole time.

4. She bought me a baby succulent plant and she only knows how much I love them.

5. We ate tons of food. Street food. We love food. Food.

6. We watched performances while sitting on the field. Totes relaxing.

7. She gave me Memories by Lang Leav. I carried it every where like a baby.


 


My favorite photo!

 
My baby plantie

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Strolling through the Wilderness

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Since the start of the semester, I have been experiencing a form of yearning which I am not fully aware what to call- yet. I have looked everywhere- I bought new books, downloaded apps on my phone which would help me  update myself on world and local news, consulted friends regarding secret ventures. There is still something missing, to my dismay.

I walk alone a lot. I have my friends on Wednesday and Fridays but we only have three subjects together. Tuesdays and Thursdays are mine and mine alone- four subjects dealing with myself. I have this developing theory that being alone makes me sad. However, I recall, I become more productive when I have no one to spare time with. Here’s the problem with being alone, I guess. You become more sensitive to the things around you. You let your mind speak for you. It seems odd to say. But the more you spend time with yourself, the more you develop a stronger connection with your mind. You become more conscious of what is inside of you. You become conscious of what comes out. And more often than not, our actions do not satisfy our ideal self.

I guess that’s what people forget to do: live inside themselves. They keep dreaming about their careers in different industries; they keep running when they don’t even understand up to what limit they could. They keep living as if the adventure is outside. They are unaware that it starts the moment they have accomplished the quest inside. Although I believe this is still debatable, for self- discovery is a lifetime labyrinth, I still rest my case on the fact that the primary necessity to achieve our concrete life goals is to at least consider living inside and understanding what it is making of you.

I walk alone a lot. And walking alone has taught me to observe- not only on the way trees sway in absolute serenity, but also the way my thoughts buffer inside. I observe how I breathe, how my pacing is synchronized with the way I turn my head- left then right.

This is all for now, I guess.

©

Pinto Art Museum: The Beauty in Truth, The Truth in Beauty

  

7th January, 2016 • I’m not against anyone or anything!

 

It always haunted me: I thought, art loses its meaning once many have delved into it. Somehow, no matter how absurd, I would not pay attention to the galleries, museums, and the like seen and defined by most, for I see what they usually do (example: let others take photographs of themselves while looking at the paintings) as mere treachery to the very purpose of art. I have done this once before, I won’t deny. And yes, I have considered myself treacherous.


After the little time I spent here, I realized, art exists because of how many souls it has touched. Sadly, I have generalized and mistaken their purpose of coming because of what some do. My apologies.


On the other hand, thoughts continue to baffle me; years from now, perhaps, the universe will take me somewhere and lead me into thinking otherwise. Until then, I invite you all to take a look at Pinto Art Museum! It is painfully breathtaking. Listen closely to what every piece has to say. After all, you are for the art and nothing else!

© instagram account: rfzss, posted on 01- 07- 16


The Pinto Art Museum was, and still is, astonishing. My girlfriend took me to the place (San Roque, Antipolo, Rizal). We even got a little nervous on the way there, for we had to pass through steep roads while riding on a Jeepney running about 500, 000 miles per hour. Note the exaggeration. Nevertheless, we get there, safe and whole.

 

This is not the entrance.

While walking through the little entrance, I made so much assumptions about what the museum has in store for me inside. It was a narrow pathway that led to a door. Further on the right is a window designated for paying the entrance fee of 150. However, we brought along our School ID, so we got a discount. We only paid 100 for it.

When we entered, it surely did not disappoint for a welcoming remark.

 

This is not the view when you get inside.

There were several galleries; one led to another. It was as though you are rummaging to a series of quests, only you are not timed. Only, you will not get exhausted. You will want to repeat the walking, the staring, the whole process, a little bit longer and a couple more times. Every gallery, with its respective theme, has so much to offer. I never thought simple Filipino traits and habit could mean significance to our artists and give their pieces such a definition. The light and heavy strokes of their artwork symbolizes who they are, and what their creation is. It makes me beyond proud to have met them through their art works. I am not only talking about their creativity here, I am giving strong emphasis on their passions, on their subconscious and conscious, on their observations, on their fears, on their desires, on their views on truth, on their perspective on art.

 

Given the artworks, if one has a sense of reflection, may just provide the viewer the capacity to look at life differently. Regarding people who tend to be more realistic than imaginative, this will exercise their ability to comprehend a world between the real and the unreal- or even, between the real and the masked truth.

 

I do not want to describe what’s inside, exactly. It is enough you know a glimpse of the power it had restored in me. Also, I do not want to spoil you: for I challenge you to come and take your friends with you, or go alone, so long as you are for the contemplation, the silent walks, the serene appreciation; go and arrive safely, for you are about to have the adventure that might change your life course.

 

©

A Spoken Word Poetry: Love is

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It was as solemn as the nights would stretch into morning. Intertwined with my fingers are yours- slowly yet continuously- letting ourselves collapse into sunrise, leading us into the cosmos that would soon consume us both.

It was painful. The hold was too painful to even bear. And darling, it’s supposed to be beautiful. Love is supposed to be beautiful; love is waiting; love is waiting for the bus stop at 11 pm. It does not count how terrifying darkness seeped into your skin; you still wait for it no matter what. Love is supposed to be beautiful. Instead, love is exhausting. Love is ripping all the vessels in my body apart, letting out all the secrets the world knew yet did not understand. They knew not of love. They knew nothing about love. 

It’s ironical, you see, for the girl who held my hand stitched all these wounds together and made dry all the painful words the boys from my past threw at me: “I’ll always love you.” They’re gone the next morning. 

What have we done, but love? 

She had long hair like mine. She always hugged me from behind. She would sometimes steal kisses from me. But that was who she was. She is.

Love is supposed to be beautiful. Love is. But not in this universe.

What have we done, but love? 


I wrote this while on a bus ride.

I recited this in front of my Speech Communication class, as an introduction for my persuasive speech about why homosexual love is greater than heterosexual love.

©

The Old and the New

Skin coated with sweat, hair down and in tangles, and a steady heartbeat for the coming wave.

The holidays has surely been a good time spent with friends and family- away from school and its stressful ambiance. However, I have welcomed the past year rather differently. I had absolutely no plans. I just let the days go one after the other as I was completely in fear of what the year will bring and flood me with. Although letting time pass, I surely had the best time in high school; senior year was a year full of lasts, so I totally gave everything a try. I went out with my friends almost every day, I made it as an editor- in- chief in an inter- class newspaper competition, I also coached my badminton team which won first place in our Sports fest; I got involved as intensely as most were getting. Of course, my heart strings have also been tugged by a girl in my class. I did not care what I was doing at all, for internally, I was going hysterical over what university will accept me. I applied for four colleges including the University of the Philippines which happens to be my dream school. Also in the list are Ateneo de Manila University, University of Sto. Tomas, and Far Eastern University from which most of my family members graduated from. Fortunately, I graduated high school. I wanted my parents to walk with me on stage because of my being an honor student, but the odds were not in my favor. It was still great nevertheless, for the long wait was over. I was out. I felt free and liberated. Luckily as well, I passed the schools I applied for and got a scholarship grant by FEU; I did not accept the offer however, for I chose to study in my dream school, UP! The same year, I officially got to call myself an Iska. It was a massive choice I made, considering the fact that I placed Los Baños (a province miles from my hometown) as my first campus choice. I had to live in a dormitory and go home on weekends. I loved car rides and the art of being alone. I wanted to learn how to be mature and independent and luckily, this is where it got me- I got closer to the person I want to be. I’m still working on it, though. I’m not sure what kind of person I want to be- I must also take note. All I know, I’m getting more satisfied with who I am and becoming than who I was before. The girl whom I developed a crush on eventually became my super girlfie. We have been together for over a year now. I must say we’ve had so many great adventures this year as well; she studies in the same university as I do, only in a different campus. Every time I was free, I would go on overnights at her condominium unit and go back to LB the day after. Sometimes, we would go home together.

Currently looking back, I will confirm: 2015 is the best year for me so far.

I should, however, welcome 2016 with a different fashion. I must have goals that I must continue to pursue as the months progress. They’re quite simple.

Travel more. 

My family has not traveled often last year. Aside, of course, from the long travels from Antipolo (where we live) to Los Baños (where I study). We have not visited any beach this year- how disappointing. This year, I must make them get out of the house and experience more from the outside!

Write more.

I have written so much last year. I should continue the routine. 

Be more.


This post is a few days late for welcoming the new year, but hey, it is not my fault I am quite indecisive about making plans. So with all that I am- skin coated with sweat, hair down and in tangles, I welcome 2016. With a steady heartbeat for its coming wave.

May it be better than what has been.

©

An Unsent Message: May 2005 

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It was the summer of 2005 when my hand trembled while holding yours.

About a few weeks from the time you kissed me good morning, we shall be heading on for the days we have painted all our lives. The breeze continued to lick our dry faces, as if to give us a hint of how our coffees will soon taste. When we took the first few steps to my apartment, you tucked few strands of my hair behind my ear and hugged me loosely.
I did. I did surround my bruised arms around your waist and gently lifted your sweater, then your shirt, to make contact with your bare skin.
I have failed, though. As soon as I tried, I have already failed.

I have failed to reach the tips of your fingers when I held your hand; it contained all the secrets, all the places you have quietly created to make sense of the many voices you hear when you dream a good dream.

I have failed to make you a warm cup of coffee which you asked this afternoon, when it was snowing out and you could no longer feel the soles of your feet. A regret- it is safe to say. What grew in the vapor of my coffee were our little memories- that of which my lips could not speak.

I have failed, love. I have failed to embrace you. I have failed to embrace the nights you ought to bring; I have failed to embrace the days unclear and blurry for I am just an hour in your now. Who am I to have embraced your future?

Para sa Bayan

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Ipinagpalit niya ang oras at panahon niya para sa kalayaan ng Bayan mula sa mga Amerikano subalit mga kapwa rin niya kakampi ang kumuha ng nalalabi niyang oras.

Inuna niya ang bansa, bago ang pamilya, bago ang sarili, bago ang kahit sino, ngunit ang dapat ring tumayong pamilya niya ang sakanya’y tumuring sampid.

Ginugulan niya ng pawis, talino, at dugo ang laban para sa bayan ngunit ang bayan din ang kumuha ng kanyang pinagpawisan at nagpadanak ng kanyang dugo.

Binago ang sistema, pinatalsik ang nagtataksil na mga opisyal ng bayan subalit ang kanyang kawani ang siya ring pumigil sa pagbabago na kanyang ninanais.

Hangad niyang mamatay para sa bayan. Hindi para patayin ng bayan.

Ako ay isang hamak na estudyante ng Unibersidad ng Pilipinas. Pinapaaral ng mga mamamayan ng bansa. Iskolar ako ng bayan kung ituring ngunit nararapat ba saakin ang bansag na ito? Isa ba akong katulad ni Heneral Luna? O ako rin ang papatay sa sarili kong kakampi? Uunahin ko rin ba ang aking sarili, tulad ng pinaghihinalaang pumatay kay Heneral Luna, tulad ng marami?

 Naalala kong kumaripas ako patungo sa sinehan galing bahay. Gahol na kasi ako sa oras; dapat lang na ako’y nagmadali. Akin pang nakaligtaan ang unang tatlong minuto ng palabas dahil sa bagal ng usad ng pila. Bahagya pa nga akong nainis dahil sa kaherang makupad kumilos. Pagpasok ko ay naguumpisa na ang pelikula; nagagalit na ang Heneral sa kanyang mga kawani. Noong mga oras na iyon, ang aking nasa isipan lang ay ang paggawa ng aking sulatin at ang pagtapos nito. Nanghinayang pa ako sapagkat hindi ako nakabili ng aking kakainin sa sinehan. Noong panahon din na iyon, hindi ko ikakailang lubos akong nananabik na mapanood ang pelikula dahil sa maraming kritikong nagsasabing maganda ito. Hindi ko rin inakalang ito ay may higit na maihahandog sa akin bukod sa inaasam kong dagdag na puntos.

Paglabas ko ng sinehan, iba na ang aking naging hinanakit. Hindi na dahil sa haba ng pila at sa bagal ng serbisyo ng kahera. Gusto ko nang sugurin ang mga opisyal sa Malacañang at magrebolusyon mag- isa. Gusto kong ituro ang bawat taong makita ko sa daan at itanong kung hanggang saan ba nito kayang ipaglaban ang bansa. Gusto kong hukayin ang puntod ng mga bumaril kay Heneral Luna, kay Paco, sa mga tauhan nito at buhayin- para patayin lang muli. Higit sa lahat, gusto kong titigan ang sarili ko- diretso sa mga mata- at sisihin ang sarili. Ni minsan, pinagmalasakitan ko ba ang bansa? Ako nga ay lantang lanta pag pinaguusapan ang problema ng republika at tila walang pakialam sa mga nagaganap sa bansa. Ang tagal kong naging ignorante. Ang tagal ko naging isang Buencamino. Isang Aguinaldo. Isang makasariling mamayan ng bansa. Sa pagpunta lang ng sinehan ay nahuli pa ako, paano nalang kaya sa iba kong mga haharapin? Nanghihinayang ako dahil wala akong makain habang nanonood, pero naisip ko bang hindi narin sapat ang nakakain ng kapwa ko Pilipino? Nakakalungkot isipin na kailangan ko pang masaksihan ang isang pelikula bago tuluyang umaksyon sa kalagayan ng bansa. Paano nalang ang mga hindi nakasaksi nito?

Ngayong natanggap ako bilang mag- aaral sa Unibersidad ng Pilipinas, nararapat lang na maging Heneral Luna ako sa aking munting paraan. Hindi ko sinasabing magiging magagalitin din ako. Subalit oo, sasabak ako. Sasabak ako sa digmaan. Para sa bayan. Magpapakdalubhasa ako sa aking napiling kurso at magsusumikap na makapagtapos, upang mapagpatuloy ang pagbibigay parangal sa bayan at sa mga namatay para sa kanya. Imposibleng maibalik ko ang buhay ng mga namatay para sa bayan dahil sa kagagawan ng kapwa- kababayan, ngunit may magagawa ako para buhayin ang mga utak na nakatuon sa kawalan. Sa abot ng aking makakaya, sa pamamagitan ng aking mga salita, pipilitin kong buksan ang mga isip at mata, ang mga damdamin at diwa ng aking kapwa- Pilipino, para huwag maging bulag sa sariling kagustuhan lamang. Hindi ko kailangang mamuno at magsimula ng rebulusyon, subalit oo. Ako ang magiging Heneral ng sarili kong pagkatao at magsisismula ako sa sarili ko.

Para sa bayan.


Photos are not mine. Credits to artfulregalia.tumblr.com and living-metaphorically.tumblr.com!